The Floaters

by Janet Waldo

When we began swimming together, two of us were married, two single. We swim in the Pacific, or Lake La Jolla, as we call it on calm days. Marilyn was just about to get a divorce when I met her. Her husband had left her and moved in with a woman in Idaho. Cindy's husband left also, years ago. Same scenario except she had just been diagnosed with breast cancer when he decided to announce in front of their two children, "I've never been happy so I'm leaving." Read more.

Yard Work

by Beverly Tjerngren

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear and Rachael found herself up early enough to watch the sun rise. She stood at the kitchen sink with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in her hand and gazed out the window as the new day broke, watching little birds flit from branch to branch on the big birch tree in her backyard, smiling when they paused from time to time to chirp a cheerful good-morning song. Read more.

In Search Of

by Adam Jeffries Schwartz

I had a husband, an actor, who only played Hapsburg Kings. Can you imagine being that typecast and sticking with it anyway?

Well, that was Fred, Freddie to me, Friedrich to his agents and it suited him; he was Canadian, which would explain some, but probably not everything. In life he resembled a large, vague ostrich, but give him a powered wig and oh baby, step back; he became a radiant version of himself. There's no explaining some things. Read more.