Caesar Learns to Juggle Caesar is born in Kansas, 1932, where there is nothing and will never be anything. His future is limited to the dustbowl of the country, where he will die with a lungful of dirt and empty… Continue Reading
We were good for a while till the shaking and the noise. The noise was deafening. My coffee cup turned over and the file cabinet dipped to the floor, spilling its contents like one of our hungover brokers. I grabbed… Continue Reading
Writer’s block. I never thought I would have it again. But days passed, and I would type out a sentence and edit it down to two words. It’s the pulps, I told myself. A penny a word — by now,… Continue Reading
I walk in. They hand me a name badge. Immediately I ask myself why am I attending my fiftieth college reunion? The few who aren’t dead look like they should be. I’m gone. No boring stories, bad food and cheap… Continue Reading
Fast car to the coast, he said. Standing around in the schoolyard, we imagined a big black car, maybe with running boards, like you see in the movies. The boy didn’t say anything more. He just kept picking up chestnuts… Continue Reading
It was late August, and I was still too young to attend school. I remember walking with my mother on the hillside path near our home at Dark Byte, along the rugged Labrador coastline. We were on our way for… Continue Reading
She walks quickly down the aisle of the train, looking for an open compartment. Her heavy fur coat marks her as out of place in the second-class wagon. Once, she would have travelled in the first class section with the… Continue Reading
On the hundredth anniversary of the end of the war, the local newspaper read “Statue Unveiled of Local War Hero Archie Sutherland”. At the unveiling ceremony a draped cloth was lowered to reveal a tall, handsome soldier standing tall atop… Continue Reading
The day of the funeral, it fails to rain. It would be easier to bear if the sky wept with us. Instead, sunlight and warmth touch every corner of our mountains, flicker on every tree leaf, fill each breeze. A… Continue Reading
“I’m giving up writing,” the man declared as he slid his empty mug towards the bartender. “Sure, giving up writing. Maybe do something that will let you pay your bar tab instead,” the stout man behind the counter quipped. “Very… Continue Reading