March 29, 2026

You’re taking off your clothes and he says, “You look nice,” and it’s an incredibly kind thing for him to say because you are a middle-aged woman, bending over to remove your leggings in a very unflattering pose.

You are taking off your clothes in the kitchen looking out the picture windows, high enough on the hill that no one can see you unless you walk directly in front of the glass. Still, chances are limited, as the two nearest houses across the street are vacant anyway. It’s a great sense of freedom, being able to see out into the world while the world cannot see you taking off your clothes as long as the doors to your office are closed.

You are taking off your clothes and it is cold upstairs. The little tubular space heater is humming as you crawl under two blankets, no top sheet, a concession, and the heater bakes your naked body in its little cocoon and you are very warm and comfortable, very soon, enough to turn off the heater with its gleaming red eye in the night, the only source of light in the room.

You are taking off your clothes and I am watching you in awe, amazed at the shape of your shoulders, the firmness of your belly, your excellent ass. I ask how you look so good when you spend most of your time supine. “I spend eight hours every night,” you reply, “sitting on an exercise ball.”

I visualize you, sitting on a giant red ball, your head visible above the front desk, bobbing up and down as you bounce…

Beth Borrus, August 17, 2025

On the front porch, well I don’t call it a porch, of course, but the deck is the best part of the house, even though the climate only allows me to use it about half the year. Custom-made like everything in this place, the upper deck has wrap-around benches where I like to perch and observe. We are up on a hill, and I watch the cars and trucks go by, the activity of the birds on the shoreline, the movement of clouds around the mountain.

There is a lower portion, with built in flower boxes and a section with a tin roof, providing shade and a great place to watch the rain come down all around you, barely getting wet. More wrap-around benches on the lower deck. My cafe table and chairs, the rainbow hammock, the flowers. It’s my kind of heaven.

Out here, where it can get so dark. Out here, where there are so many stars. A million fireflies in the dark The sound of water lapping at the sand, the sound of birdsong, of my songs–

Why I like to sing in the open air, an audience of avians. Set up on something like a stage, audible but invisible, singing to the water, singing to the moon.

Soon, I’ll be stuck inside, snow piled up on the planks. I painted in April or May-trees across the street bare of leaves, revealing quiet white silence behind.

BETH BORRUS

December 14, 2025

“Do not fall in love” is easy to say. Like, “I don’t believe in love,” or “love is just a sociological invention.” These things. A conversation I had earlier today. “Do not fall in love with two people.” Maybe that. “Do not fall in love with someone who will outlive you.”

Very bad advice. “Do not fall in love with the wrong person.” Well, it’s way too late for that. “Do not fall in love unless you’re willing to take your life in a completely different direction from the one you had intended.”

Do not fall in love if you are afraid to lose. Do not fall in love with the babe in your arms. Soon he will be struggling to fight free.

Do not fall in love with your possessions–give them away. Do not fall in love if you are under investigation. Do not fall in love if your pockets are empty. Do not fall in love if you are unwilling to laugh and cry, often at once.

Do not fall in love if you care what others think. Do not fall in love with your kitchen sink–well–okay, fall in love with the sink. You put it there, after all.

Do not fall in love with four-legged creatures who will break your heart. Do not fall in love with the image on the screen. Do not fall in love with a place you’ve never been. Do not fall in love with the first flavor of ice cream you choose.

Do not fall in love with a car or a sports team. Do not fall in love with the fickle sky, the flickering stars. Do not fall in love with the inconstant sunrise. Do not fall in love with the truth. Do not fall in love with your eyes closed.