Fresh Air By Kathleen Tonn The scent of lilacs I walked Towards the haystack. Wind stirred the clover I breathed Nearly falling over. Oxygen rich air Lungs bursting So I dare. Truth not contained I speak No, I will not abstain.

How Sure Are You By Kathleen Tonn I sat at my desk making travel plans. My “to do” list was nearly completed. My passport was up to date. My vaccinations are current, including my tetanus shot. My travel funds were put in an international bank. My home was sold. My car was sold. I would board the plane with a brief case and a small suitcase. I said good bye to my friends knowing we’d stay in touch despite the ocean separating us. I am starting over abroad. It took ten years of soul searching to arrive at that decision. It was also fomented by the economy. The corporation I worked for said to me, “Hayden, AI is taking over your role. We appreciate all you have done, but we must move forward technologically.” I wasn’t alone. My whole department received their pink slips. The anger and frustration my coworkers experienced was disturbing. Some were single parents, and some were single wage earners. Bottom line, they had children and aging parents to look after. It stunk. I requested the corporation to give my coworkers my stock dividends. I had fifteen years of accrual which amounted to twenty-five thousand dollars. I figured that would help my five closest associates. I instructed the human resource department to keep that donation confidential. I was to catch my plane to Brussels at one a.m. Before doing so, I was going to have dinner with an old friend from college. We were meeting at the Olive Garden for a glass of wine and their delicious Braised Beef Tortellini. I took Uber to the restaurant. The car’s windshield wipers worked furiously to clear the rain from the glass. The driver and I watched the sheets of rain smack the pavement as the raindrops bounced off the streets. Thunder and lightening pounded out a rhapsody overhead. It many ways, the storm was a perfect crescendo for an eventful American life. The driver saluted me as I exited his Acura. Then, I ran towards the restaurant’s front door. The host offered to take my wet jacket before showing me to Dillan’s and my table.

The Lectern By Kathleen Tonn I walked into PAS Room 119 and took my seat in the fifth row of the small auditorium. The capacity sign at the entrance door read one-hundred-and twenty people. The university met the fire department’s regulations. I sat on the left side closest to the exit. A habit I acquired after a fire broke out in a movie theater I was in. Survival instinct. Other students were filing into the auditorium. Some were talking excitedly about their winning team at the Super Bowl. Others were discussing their bus routes that were disrupted by the awful snowstorm that resulted in the cancelation of classes. I just sat in my seat looking at the simple, brown lectern. Noble speakers, in years past, used it to convey heartfelt messages on the importance of civic participation. After all, this lecture hall was used primarily by the Political Science Department. Today’s guest, Jonathan Renaldo Targetto, would speak on the crisis of the first amendment housed in the U.S. Constitution. I heard him speak at Lexington University a year earlier. He was sincere; yet, his passion for the Constitution was conveyed through a quick wit. His sarcastic humor sliced through student boredom like a knife. No puffery, no platitudes and no poison diluted his message Silence fell in the room as our instructor walked up to the lectern. “Students, I want to welcome Mr. Targetto to our class. His knowledge of the Constitution and the first amendment is extraordinary. He will give you ample understanding of why you can grumble on social media about the referee’s fatal call in yesterday’s Super Bowl. With those words, laughter spread across the room from the fans of the winning team. Then Mr. Targetto took his place at the lectern. “I oppose your laughter students. I support the losers.” A fresh wave of laughter sprung up. Not by the students who joyfully threw barbs at those whose team lost. Instead, the laughter came from those besmirched students supporting the losing team. “Okay, let’s get serious. I’ve got forty-five minutes to convey the importance of free speech. Without your understanding of this vital amendment, and your commitment to it, you will lose it. Do I have your attention?”

The Logo By Kathleen Tonn I searched the magazine rack at Barnes & Noble. From lifestyle, home décor, finance to body building magazines looked back at me. The magazine I was hoping to find was not on display. For all I know, the magazine doesn’t exist. I should explain. I had a dream last week where I saw an unusual logo. The logo was on the cover of a magazine. I clearly saw the intricate, yet, crisp shape that formed three letters upside down. E, X, and B were graphically outsized on the front cover of a finance magazine. The letters were colored in pigment I’d never seen before. As an acrylic painter, I was familiar with the color shades. However, the logo I observed in my dream had indistinguishable colors I can’t even describe the colors. I would just recognize the logo when I see it. I walked out of the bookstore disappointed. I really hoped I would find the magazine with the logo on the store’s rack. I thought Barnes & Noble carries all magazine publications. I opened the door to my Subaru. It was my lunch hour. I had just enough time to get a bagel from The Bagel Factory. I drove out of the parking lot still thinking about the unusual nature of that logo. At one time I worked as a graphic artist. That job required me to do the artistic work involving company logos. Maybe that’s why I had the dream. Perhaps that logo hasn’t been created yet. Moreover, maybe that particular finance magazine doesn’t exist yet. Many times my dreams pertain to future events. Time tables that are not clearly defined. When I receive a dream that stands out as significant, the dream always remains in my conscious awareness. Like a computer program searching for that missing data point that completes an algorithm. I ordered my bagel. So delicious. Plain bagel, alpha sprouts, avocado slices, crème cheese, pepper jack cheese and tomato slices. I chewed the bagel thoughtfully Again, the dream content running through my mind. I will continue to pray about the dream. Perhaps God will bring that logo before me during some meeting. Or maybe, he might want me to design the logo as I saw it in the dream. The specific type of magazine is integral to the logo. A finance magazine. Certainly, finance and our volatile economy rub elbows.