Here We Go Again…

What do you mean it’s July 1st already?!

All right, time to sharpen the pencils, stack the papers, and see what the Muse cooks up this month.

The world-weaving continues in another mystery form. This time, trying my hand at something cozy. Will see how that goes.

How about you, dear Writer? Are you all set!


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Too many questions and too few answers, Amelia thought as she stared at the homework sheet in front of her.

Since when did math require an essay?

She glanced at her eldest. “Did I miss you doing these?”

He shook his head. “No. Benny’s older sister said they would have helped for her college tests, though.”

“Primary grades are too early to start that kind of prep. Your sister got all of the answers right. So, why-?”

“Because she has to explain how she got them right.”

“That’s what ‘show your work’ is for, not words. I’ve half a mind to let that teacher have it and-.”

He pushed a small bowl of ice cream her way. “Mom, you asked me to remind you not to ‘Hulk out.’ Don’t worry, we can help her in the morning. Good news is that she loves math.”

Amelia nodded. “So, do we introduce her to Yahtzee or cribbage first?”

Pedals and Postcards

Photo by Alexandr Podvalny on

Amelia took the window seat at the coffee shop and watched the tourists enter and exit the bike rental shop. It wasn’t the routes taken that interested her. (She had ridden and walked every possible route in the area.)

It was listening to the stories afterward, the journey taken and destinations still to go. Some of the storytellers were sketchers, others ramblers, and some, successful suspense spinners. She didn’t admit to jotting down possible vacation ideas on napkins later pocketed then shared with her children.

Some days, her eldest enjoyed looking through the guestbook on the counter of the bike shop and hearing bits of trivia from the owner. Her youngest asked if there was anything she could keep. One summer, in her neatest penmanship of crayon on paper, her youngest wrote a request: “Pleaz send me a postcard when you get home. Thank you.”

Amelia didn’t know what to make of that idea at first. On the one hand, she prepared for disappointment and the need for comforting. On the other, would strangers send cards *to* a place they visited versus from?


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‘When one door closes, another one opens. Usually. If not, make your own door.’

Amelia read the last line of the letter a few times. Leave it to her parents to find the right thing to say when she needed to hear it most. She saw how some folks in her circle handled divorce. Most of it wasn’t pretty.

Brie said it best – some folks chose to drown their sorrows in alcohol, others, anger. Both quickly killed the soul.

Maybe that was why Amelia found herself staring at the collection of books from her great-uncle’s wooden chest. There was something there that she could, and probably would, boldly consider. Maybe her own ‘door’ was found buried in these old treasures.


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Amelia hadn’t gone through her great-uncle’s music box in ages. Some sheets were damaged by the fire. A puzzle she had always put on the ‘for later’ shelf presented itself to her now, with time on her hands.

There was a mambo, a waltz and a concerto to choose from. Then there was the singe-bordered piece that cried ‘mystery’ as the meter and starting notes were gone.

Music notebook and pencil in hand, Amelia sketched the first possible notes.


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“Maybe it’s worth looking at all of the possible options then going one step further,” Amelia told her guest. “If a desired path has come to an end, you create a new one.”

Kai Addison sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”

“Why can’t we create a job that best uses our talents? Sure, health benefits and a steady paycheck might come in handy, but why should we limit ourselves to what’s on some arbitrary list?”

“Is that what you did?”

Amelia shook her head. “No. It’s something I’m about to do.”


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“Kittens? No. Oh, why do you want more pets, dear?” Amelia sighed. She had enough to keep the roof over their heads, and other basic needs.

“We’ll do better and the kitten can play with It.” Her youngest held out a jar of coins.


“They’re so cute, though.”


“I’ll do my chores for a month!”

Amelia shook her head. “Try a stronger argument. The answer’s still ‘no.'”