All Posts By Ann Klotz

Tucking In

We stood on the hillside, the early July sun warm, the notes of Danny Boy on the bagpipes lingered in the blue air.  It was not like...

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Right Here

The April Mom died, I resisted going East, believing that if I didn’t go, she wouldn’t die. I did not want her spry, wise, funny light...

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Not Pompeii

On our way to school last week, Atticus, 12, and I discuss our black cat’s willingness to lie in the driveway, unafraid or oblivious to...

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