The Understudy
My last moonlit August had a name: Judas. A farmer, planting weeds was his specialty. His last field was so brilliantly cultivated I cried. That year he won first place at the county fair. He was so proud. Thought his weeds resembled me and dedicated his ribbon to my name. So stirred by his gift, I grew a few weeds of my own dedicated to him, of course. Next year I’ll sow roots to withstand the coming fire— my blessed handiwork.
BIO
Joy Nettles is a wife and mom of three who currently teaches writing at Belmont University. Writing is her passion, but her ultimate desire is to help those around her appreciate each moment as it comes and live a life of purpose on purpose no matter what each stage of life brings.
Recent Posts
See AllWe met I giggled You were serious I felt your heart even then Our souls said hello again Here we go A lifetime would pass 33 years to be exact And still And still As you lay there in your last hours I
Me: Dear Stress, thank you for being such a big part of my life for most of my life. You have helped me to know in my body what feels right and wrong, what feels safe or scary, what I want to do or no
But who wouldn’t want to look that good in mismatched bra and panties? She’s not looking in the mirror she holds. Lying on loose sheets, little rhetorical mouth a little open. She’s waiting for her hu