Speak, Love, Last – A Non-Fiction Short Story – Part 7

By Lizbeth Hartz | September 3, 2018

Winter turned into spring and my feelings for Vic blossomed like summer roses. I tried to keep them hidden but I couldn’t conceal what was happening inside of me. Something was thawing. The ice floes protecting my heart were melting in the sunlight of my desire. Anxiety picked at me. Maybe I wasn’t Vic’s type.…

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Ingenious Way to Keep Dementia Patients Hydrated (#WATWB)

By Lizbeth Hartz | August 25, 2018

What with Hurricane Lane wreaking havoc on Hawai’i’s weather, I forgot today was the day to post good news for We Are the World Blogfest. So I was scanning good news and came across this one that’s near and dear to my heart, because I help look after a hundred something lady with dementia. It’s…

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Speak, Love, Last – A Non-Fiction Short Story – Part 6

By Lizbeth Hartz | August 25, 2018

The pain of Vic blaming me for something I didn’t do hit me hard. I barely made it to the bathroom before my tears fell. After collecting myself, I hurried back to the alarm room. The relief fireman, my pal Danny, asked, “How come your eyes all bloodshot?” “I thought Vic…Vic was my friend,” I…

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Speak, Love, Last – A Non-Fiction Short Story – Part 5

By Lizbeth Hartz | August 19, 2018

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream, by William Shakespeare. *** A few months later, Vic told me Molly had moved back to L.A. “Was it because of the oil thing?” “Nah. She rearranged my apartment. I told her she should’ve asked first.” “Well, yeah. Did she say why…

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Speak, Love, Last – A Non-fiction Short Story – Part 4

By Lizbeth Hartz | August 17, 2018

  The longer I knew Vic, the more his positive outlook charmed me. On a slow afternoon in the alarm room, I poked fun at a short fireman who told tall tales about his amazing rescues. In his typical, generous style, Vic said, “Aww, the sawed off little dude’s just trying to act big.” “You’re…

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Speak, Love, Last – A Non-Fiction Short Story – Part 3

By Lizbeth Hartz | August 3, 2018

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.” Maya Angelou *** Part 3 of Speak, Love, Last continues below. A few months after I despaired of resurrecting my connection with Billy, I transferred into a new job, gladly escaping from a run-down Army fire…

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