Her grandma called them panters and declared they ran through the mountains. The girl lay in bed under a patchwork quilt in the loft of …
Dream by Julia Nunnally Duncan
In my dream she is a baby still, cradled in my arms, sheltered from any harm that might come her way. As I hold her, …
Giant Sled by Julia Nunnally Duncan
After a deep snow, our neighbor David built a giant wooden sled for his sons and my brother and me. Bundled in winter clothes, we …
The Window by Julia Nunnally Duncan
Her chair was placed by the window so she could face the outside though there was nothing much to see but the yard, a tree, …
Wedding Ring by Julia Nunnally Duncan
Years ago, my grandmother gave me her mother’s wedding ring. Occasionally, I try it on, holding out my hand to see how the wide gold …
Paul’s Taxicab by Julia Nunnally Duncan
On Saturday mornings when my mother called a cab to take us to town, it was usually my uncle Paul who pulled into our driveway. …
In My Neighborhood by Julia Nunnally Duncan
There were many mothers in my neighborhood: Beulah, who tended to my foot on a summer day when I stepped on a shard of broken …
Salt by Julia Nunnally Duncan
When he found me hiding bashfully behind a tree at my babysitter’s house, he held out the small round box. My Army sergeant uncle was …
Buttons by Julia Nunnally Duncan
She stored buttons in a drawer of her Singer Sewing Machine— a collection of varied sizes and colors— rose and ivory and pale green or …