Moondance: Celebrating Creative Women -- Fiction

The Tenant
by Judith S. Nelson

From inside the shock of loss, Pearl vowed to spend the rest of her days in her mother's rocker clinging to the shoebox on her lap. Burial of its contents hadn't occurred to her, for she was firmly in the grip of false hope, where she stayed throughout the night.
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A Love Letter To The Ocean
by Deidre Woollard

The whole rest of the day, Beth felt an inexplicable happiness despite the fact that she usually hated driving the bus on rainy days. But wet seats and slick roads and grumpy passengers shaking their umbrellas out in doorway couldn't faze her today. She had been acknowledged.
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Redemption
by Karen Simpson Nikakis

The lines pop into my head, Yeats' Second Coming. Why am I thinking of them now? I know the answer before the question is fully formed.
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