Laurie Stone's Published Pieces

A Peak in Provence: Part 6 (In the Know Traveler, October 2012)

Monday, June 25, 2012

After breakfast I hike into the hills behind town. I pass wildflowers and the occasional burro. The roads are steep and curvy but I get to see another part of this world, large houses tucked behind stone walls and wrought iron gates. Many have expansive patios facing the patchwork of vineyards beyond. I can’t decide which one should be my dream house.

Continued...http://www.intheknowtraveler.com/archives/10180

A Peak in Provence: Part 7 (In the Know Traveler, October 2012)

For the first time I hold my own in a little shop, buying souvenirs. The man behind the counter is patient, and I sort of understand him as he sort of understands me. I know if I stayed longer, the language would begin to seep in. It already has.

I walk the streets alone for the first time, silently saying goodbye to the people in the cafes. A stooped old woman walks by with a cane. "Bon jour madam," I say. She stops, responding with a wide, toothless smile. "Bon jour madam."

continued...http://www.intheknowtraveler.com/archives/10436

Coming up Shortz at the Crossword Contest (Westport News, February 2012)

Imagine sitting in a crowded room with 120 people doing something so torturous, so grueling, you start to question your sanity. This happened to me recently when I attended the annual Crossword Puzzle Tournament at the Westport Library.
Continued on this link:
http://www.westport-news.com/default/article/Guest-Column-Coming-up-Shortz-on-crosswords-3321540.php

The Place I Go (Connecticut Muse Magazine, Autumn 2011)

There’s a place I go, ducking in while others work or tend their children. I have mixed emotions about this pastime, this guilty pleasure fast becoming a habit. Even a few months ago, I shunned it as unnecessary and frivolous. Now I can’t seem to stay away. Just the other day I entered and asked for my usual.

Some people don’t believe in aging. My grandmother was one of them. I realized this as I stood in the Hyannis Bus Station one afternoon in June of 1974. I was seventeen, had just graduated high school and grateful my parents had agreed to let me stay with Nana for the summer, my first time away from home. Five minutes passed, ten, but no sign of my grandmother. I had started to think she had mixed up the dates when across the station I heard “Law!” Only one person called me by that nickname.

I Flunked the Holiday House Tour (Westport News, December 2009)

I've always had a dicey relationship with Christmas. In terms of life's pleasures, its somewhere between magical fantasy and a triathalon. Dragging a full-grown tree in and out of my home each year, schlepping through endless stores, and hearing loops of Madonna's 'Santa Baby' are slightly more fun than drinking old eggnog. So last year when asked to have my home included in our town's annual Holiday Open House, I was torn.
Continued on this link:
http://www.westport-news.com/default/article/I-flunked-the-Holiday-House-Tour-281201.php

"Just One More Thing" (Second Place Winner, Summer Fiction Contest, Connecticut Muse Magazine, 2007)

Both cops looked to be a few years younger than Susan, maybe in their mid-thirties. They stood on her doorstep. The taller one asked if her husband was home and when she said no, he produced a search warrant and asked if they could come in. “Of course,” she answered.

They were big men and filled up her large entry hall with its marble floors and sweeping staircase. Officer Landers spoke the most. He had an open Irish face with ginger-colored hair and china blue eyes. His cheeks looked ruddy and chapped.