In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 14, 2015April 12: An EarthquakeThe first shudder could be a construction crew across the street, the condo building finally going up.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 14, 2015April 11: Bridal ShowerIt’s a foreign country here on the bar patio, in the sun, couples brunching all up and down the street at other bar patios.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 12, 2015April 10: The Oil Fields of InglewoodThe oil wells are churning as I crest the hill.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 11, 2015April 9: Westwood Community PoolPools of a certain era hold dreams.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 11, 2015April 8: The BeachThe sand barely stirs across the cement path. The waves roll in their regular rhythm.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 9, 2015April 7: Weather for Your MoodThe sun will harden this fatigue.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 8, 2015April 6: Game of ThronesThe full suit of armor appears to be a statue. It stands still in front of a plastic Iron Throne and it does not move.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 8, 2015April 5: Through the MistYesterday, it was sunny and the roads were filled with people. Today, the cold mist settles on empty trails. Except for us.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 6, 2015April 4: Training Starts TodayAll I can see are cyclists.
In2015: My Year of WritingbyKelly O'Mara·Apr 6, 2015April 3: A Man on a MissionHe shifts from one leg to the other before giving in to the need for something, for some kind of movement, anything, and beginning to squat.