HEAL(ER) MAG

Healing Space
One Day Retreat Healing

Write through healing. Feel how writing can change prospective and provide comfort.

 

July 18, 2017

Dear Reader,

I left Maria Delorda’s home as quickly as I could. I had already imposed on her a great deal and hoped not to increase my burden for a further length of time. When I asked what I could do in return for the care she took towards me in my sickness, she asked...

June 28, 2017

Dear Reader,

When I embarked on this journey, I was unprepared for the daily toils, loneliness, fatigue, hunger, and anxiety I would face. I had an idea—I had, after all, traveled before. I have known many homes in my lifetime, but never before had I undertaken such a l...

June 22, 2017

Dear Reader,

I write in less than ideal circumstances. I’m on the road to the next place. Where that is, I’m not entirely sure yet. A trader from the fishing village is escorting me—but I’ve not been much in the mood for talk. It seems that neither has he, so I think we...

June 14, 2017

Dear Reader,

Agie had been kind enough to give me directions to the river, which I took without haste. The most important thing she said, was to go left when I thought I should go right. She said that all signals would point right, but not to be beguiled. My fear of her...

June 7, 2017

Dear Reader,

When I last wrote, I was saying salutations to the Waka Leaf Women. I left their village much in need of space for my own private thoughts. I needed time to consider the strange behaviors of these women, to write in my journal and to bathe by myself, and to...

May 31, 2017

About the author: Tori Rego is a recent graduate from the College of Charleston in South Carolina. Her fiction and critical work has been published in KY Story and The Keats Letters Project. Her writing explores travel, art, philosophy, and womanhood in the 21st centur...

May 24, 2017

His: exotic symbols. Like, you can’t imagine. a plantain.

a breathing concerto guava. Blood persimmon.

sticky—sweet and sweet. His was like that. His—

did I mention?

The way his juiced the life out of me? The way his

felt while all else gave way?

Put another way, his was et...

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