Author Archives: Laura Funderburg


Lucid smiles slide off leaves, playgrounds, benches. Everywhere is the smell of laughter— A wet, gentle sheen that speaks of happiness, hope and nostalgia. A puddle. For one second, you are again A child. Advertisements

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Gabriel’s Oboe

Gabriel’s Oboe.

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When I listen to “Gabriel’s Oboe” by Ennio Morricone,  I can see an old, crushed man, huddled on a stool. His face- so lined. The stream follows the channels carved into his cheeks and nose and drip onto her hand.  She lies … Continue reading

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A Three-Word Horror Story

Perhaps it’s my logophilia or just caffeinated imagination, but I have always had a strong reaction to words. Some words just flow off the tongue like milk: sinuous or undulating. Others seem to stab with their edges: corrugated and juncture. … Continue reading

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Swirling drafts of burgundy, haunted expectancy chills the listener. He stoops, gathering a golden memory that crumples like paper in his hand. Everywhere, silence filled with whispers. Shadows lengthen as the lemon days of forgetfulness say goodbye. Hush. Hussshhhh…

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