Author: Abby Rosmarin

A fox came into our yard last week. Last week, while the chickens were ranging freely, while I was blissfully indoors and pretending like that was adequate supervision. I didn’t even know anything was wrong until I came out to a pile of scattered feathers and not a chicken in sight. Something is wrong. Something… Continue reading Inevitable →

I'm greeting the fall with insomnia. This is a common occurrence. The seasons change, and I mark it with pock-marked sleep. It's a ritual between nature and my nervous system, my circadian rhythm a secret Druid. I don't worry about it too much. Sleep and I have always had a tenuous relationship. It is the… Continue reading Ephemeral →

Time is not a constant entity. This much, even a lay person knows (a child can recite E = MC2, even if they don't exactly know what it means). It's affected by gravity -- time at sea level moves a little slower than time in the stratosphere. I've been feeling how relative time is --… Continue reading Hope & Time →

"This will make a good blog post, at least," my husband offers. "I can't think like that. That's a great way to guarantee I don't write anything," I say. It's a dumb thing to be upset over. But I am. We both are. Upset and frustrated and disheartened. The server we had been playing a… Continue reading Impermanence →

This is a story from the short story collection The Secret to a Happy Marriage, which I am releasing today first as a free ebook, leading up to its paperback release. If you enjoy the short story, I only ask that you help me get my little ebook to the #1 spot on Amazon's unpaid… Continue reading The Secret to a Happy Marriage →

It's the day after constant rainfall, and the feeling in the air is damp and morose. It lets you know exactly what the weather had been, and threatens to continue raining at any moment. "At least the transplants are getting lots of water," says my husband. I think about all the bushes that had been… Continue reading Transplant →

"We write stories in such different ways," a fellow writer friend remarks. "I prefer one-off stories about characters before moving onto different worlds, and you like to return to characters and give them additional stories." "And both are completely valid," I reply. And it's true. I love to interweave stories, to hide Easter eggs in… Continue reading Reintroduce →

My beachcomber bike isn't meant for the hilly roads of New Hampshire, but here we are. There's a perverseness to this tableau. Here I am, seated upright on my dainty, turquoise bicycle, saying hello to twice as many neighbors on that ride around the block than I would in an entire month. Someone in one… Continue reading Superposition →

My car hit 195,000 miles today. It will most likely hit 200,000 before the summer. I don't do the long, delirious drives like before -- back when life was an unrelenting attack until I had no choice but to become better -- but I log at least 1,500 miles a month for work. Hiking season… Continue reading Discern →

The temperature has dropped to single digits for the first time this season. My garage door protests opening. My car takes an extra moment to start. The world around me is frozen. The snow that built up from the week has a layer of ice to it and, against the winter morning sun, it is… Continue reading Frozen →