Scribo Scribere
A Literary Blog
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I am a writer based in New Jersey. I have a Bachelor’s degree from Harvard University and a Master’s degree from the University of Toronto. I have experience as a German to English translator, a technical writer, and a grant writer. In my writing, I explore myth, legend, and languages. This blog is devoted to my past and future writings. – Johanna Rodda
Category: Uncategorized
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Demon of night, and embers all aglow: tonight we gather round the fireplace, heart of our home. My father lades the fire, loads into it paper, as kindling, and logs we have had for years, well-dried. But for the kindling keenly stoked, the house would be cold, this third night without power after the storm.…
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Are we rare, and therefore lucky? Do aliens sit, upon a day, like us, in a park, on a bench, under trees, with sun to look down over them, and kiss their eyes as they marvel at green and flowers around them? Do people on other planets look up to the heavens, standing and immersed…
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When Lucy walked the plains of Africa, when all her kind had learned to walk with the crowns of their heads reaching tall to the sky, when they used tools, first to forage, then to hunt, when they first began to range out far from the places where they had first come to be, I…
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There was nothing defiant in the thin man I met along the streets one day. He was the most heaven-sent of all beings I’ve ever had cause to meet beneath the sun. He was sitting in a wheelchair. All of him was skin and bones, neck to ankle. Yet there was nothing defiant in the…
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In the summer I will return to the city I love. With its broad streets and green parks. Cafes in abundance where you can sit a while and write, or read, or talk with friends. I have met many people this way. The city lies on a placid lake. Wide beaches lie along it. I…
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It is easy, and even a given, that when my father and I go to our favorite cafe and I sip tea while he drinks coffee, we end up talking together about the things that move us the most. What is the magic in those golden liquids, that they should dredge up such deep topics…
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The day before Valentine’s Day there appeared on the dresser in my parents’ room a vase: tall, crystal, empty; beckoning. It shimmered in the light streaming through the window. When I saw it standing there, I was moved to think of how it was just a given that flowers would soon fill it, given by…
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As I sit writing out on a patio, a terrace, in the center city, I stop and pause for a moment, look out into the distance. There’s a road with cars passing by. There are people on the sidewalks. Planes are crossing in the sky. All is movement. I do not at all regret being…
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One day my lover asked me, what place I’d most like to see in the world. Through my mind ran a host of places, pictures of things I’d seen. There were palaces, and churches, tall cathedrals and temples all over the world. There were oceans of the deepest blue, and fields of the most emerald…
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Whenever I sit and think of today, burgeoning with far new possibility, I say to myself, sometimes, young as I am, “Get ready for the future, kid. It’s gonna hit you hard. You might just in fact really be among the last ‘real’ people ever to live. What once was only talked about, is today…
