Joan Haskins

Blogger, writer, children’s yoga instructor. Uses her powers mostly for good.


Random Dad


On a regular basis, I am engaged in random conversations with people in the grocery store, on the sidewalk, in the lobby of my apartment building.

They start them. I don’t. I am friendly, but not the one to strike up a conversation with a stranger. A simple “good morning” is my style.

Today a man is loading up a U-haul outside my building. He…


Choose Me, Baby

I have celebrated nineteen Mother’s Days. That adds up to nearly 7,300 days of being a mother. I love being my daughter’s mother.

In a line up of babies, I would have chosen her.

In a group of screaming toddlers, I would have chosen her.

I would have plucked her out of the surly eye-rolling group of junior high kids too.


A Halloween Story

Halloween, 1960-something. It was the first year my mother lifted the ban on Halloween, and let me go trick or treating.

When we lived in our house, I was the one who opened the door for the ghosts and pirates, witches and clowns. There were no Disney princesses, or for that matter, any store-bought costumes. Moms made all the costumes in our neighborhood…


Elephant Graveyard

by Joan Haskins


I received an email from my brother last week telling me he’s moving to Florida. It said something like, “time for the elephant graveyard.”

We were a family of five, fractured from the start. I was born into this family by accident, certain that I never really belonged with them. Much later I realized that none of them…

Publications edited by Joan Haskins

This collection contains archived and new work from the writers of www.fictionique.com and other independent sites around the web.


It’s Never Lupus

~ Dr. House


It’s lupus,my doctor tells me several years ago. I have many of the signs back then. The butterfly rash that appears occasionally on my face. The swollen fingers. The crushing fatigue and joint pain.

I’m sorry, she says. It’s lupus. The blood tests are all conclusive. ANA, complement, they all point to the same thing.


Suspicious Black Man


Someone called the police on my husband today. It’s happened before and it will happen again. It will happen again because my husband is Black.

When his daughter was three, the store in our neighborhood called the police. Suspected of shoplifting a tiny patent leather purse. He wanted it for his little one. He looked inside it, probably took too long…


Random Dad


On a regular basis, I am engaged in random conversations with people in the grocery store, on the sidewalk, in the lobby of my apartment building.

They start them. I don’t. I am friendly, but not the one to strike up a conversation with a stranger. A simple “good morning” is my style.

Today a man is loading up a U-haul outside my building. He…


Apples and Honey


I am adamant about serving slices of apples and having my family dip them in honey for Rosh Hashana. Never mind that my husband is an Atheist, (one of the best people I’ve ever known) brought up in a Black Baptist church. My daughter decided on Judaism even though she was raised with a whole host of choices, and our Menorah is comfortable sharing space with our Christmas tree…


Sunday Times 


We lived in upstate New York. Not upstate like Hastings on Hudson. Or Croton on Hudson. Actually upstate. Rochester. Buffalo. The farthest you can get from New York City.

But on Sundays, New York City came to us. To my mother, really. Sunday morning, the Times landed on our doorstep with a thud.My mother bent down, picked it up, and so it began: The Style…