Rowan Finley
Bio
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
Stories (1203)
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Baby Moon
Baby brow furrows and eyebrows rise. A pinhole of moonlight skims through winter window pane, kissing baby cheek discreetly. Tiny freckle on baby’s face appears to fall like snow, with silky baby grins. Blanket of snow rests outside. Mother’s finger traces the delicate ear of baby. Father hums a low tune, to sooth and praise the night. He rests his rough hand on his wife’s shoulder. Smell of hot chocolate beckons from a small white table. Baby’s room is colorful with kites and singing rainbows. This particular baby doesn’t seem to be as sleepy as her parents. The husband whispers to his family, “Merry Christmas Eve!”
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Poets
Because of the Biscuits . Top Story - October 2024.
I grew up on a farm. My daddy was a farmer. My four older brothers followed in his footsteps, helping on the farm. Naturally, as a girl at the time, I was expected to cook and feed everyone in the family with my mother usually at my left elbow. Don’t get me wrong, I liked cooking and I loved my family but there were days when I was just tired of, what seemed like, bottomless stomachs. Every morning, I would wake up to milk the cow and bring the milk in to make buttermilk biscuits.
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Fiction
Sand-hustler
Once upon a time, there was a stately sandcastle on a beach. In the sandcastle, there lived a princess who longed to swim in the ocean. Every day, she woke up and watched the sunrise. The ocean waves taunted her. Every evening, she would sit and watch the sunset. The ocean waves still taunted her. One day, in frustration, she cried out to no one in particular, “I’d give anything for just one swim in the ocean!”
By Rowan Finley about a year ago in Fiction
