August 30th, 2005 It’s eerie: the stillness when I looked at everything I ever called home underwater. There was a surge of unease in the air. One that whispered, though the storm had passed, the worst had yet to come.… Continue Reading
Bob Wanstead walked around the black engine, pausing for a moment to pat one of the big driver wheels, something he’d done before every trip since he started on the line forty-four years before. It left a film of coal… Continue Reading
Across Reddit, Wikipedia, Quora, I hunt it. My eyes burst vessels. My wife leans in the door, saying, “Babe, you’ve got work in the morning.” I wasn’t religious until sickness ignited my brain. Not madness, electricity. Seizures sparking from nowhere,… Continue Reading
When Prince Mynes of Lyrnessus came seeking Briseis’s hand, he brought many gifts for her father: jars of oil and sweet perfumes that burned Briseis’s nose and made her sneeze; swaths of shining cloth, and, of course, caskets of jewels… Continue Reading
There were nights I climbed out on the fire escape and listened to the voices above. I should’ve been doing my homework, because I’d be stuck in the sixth grade for another year, but Dad had just left for work… Continue Reading
You probably don’t remember. In fact, I doubt anyone remembers. Maybe that dog of yours that Dad found huddled in a Coca-Cola crate behind Steve’s filling station off Highway 83 just south of Thedford. I always did like that dog,… Continue Reading
“And now, for our next act, please welcome to the stage… Gertrude, the Cleaveress of the Rhineland!” The attending crowd clapped politely as a stout and simply-dressed woman took the steps onto the circular platform. Spotlights of reflected candleflame lit… Continue Reading
You may never know my name, but I have yours tattooed across my shoulders. I have tried to accept what divides us; however, I am helplessly pulled toward your half-turned-away face. Your downcast eyes ignore the jeers of the crowd.… Continue Reading
During our occasional morning recitals in the auditorium, I sat in the front row of the school orchestra. That’s where the teacher always wanted the cellos to sit. You could look out at the audience if you wanted, but mostly… Continue Reading
“The helplessness I felt when the bombs exploded, and mustard gas crept like ground fog into our trenches is hard to describe,” my Great-Uncle Leo said as we painted his barn red. After I dropped out of college, I became… Continue Reading