Author name: Tammy Robyn Segal

History buff, Democrat, Green Party rallygoer, democratic socialist, cable TV installer, food and diaper bank manager, children's afterschool program organizer, nursing home recreation department administrator, halfway house rehabilitation facilitator, picky eater, banjo and electric harpsichord novice, mom, wife, mentor, writer, and volunteer.

Gym

By the time I get to the top of the steps I am winded. I try to catch my breath and look inconspicuous. I notice a stationary bicycle to my left, unlike any I had seen before. This one has a chair instead of the traditional bicycle seat. I am still panting as I straddle

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Free

I have not received a birthday card, letter or note from my father in years. I suppose the mail stopped when the emails began. Maybe the mail stopped when I was too old to get a birthday card. When I saw the return address on the envelope I felt that familiar excitement that the mail

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Flea

“He has fleas”, Emily stated with confidence. “Uh” I recoiled as she took her fingers and spread the infested hairs behind Milo’s ears. “This cat is infested.” she said as though she was a minor in the Yukon who had just struck gold. As horrified as a parent just told by the school nurse that

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Fired!

I was reduced to bargaining. After considering all my options, I agreed that I would reset my alarm clock to 10:30am, no 10:45am, and then I would get up and do “something”. Within minutes I was back asleep. I was dazed and disoriented when the alarm clock buzzed its static buzz two hours later. I

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