The yellowed lampshade on the bedside table goes bright, goes dim. It buzzes, threatens death before settling into a weak, cool glow. Rory says, “I remember when we were eighteen.” She stares at the ceiling, recalling. “We ran through the… Continue Reading
“Mommy’s not gonna leave him, is she?” “No,” I said. Lina frowned, shifting the perfect geometry of her face. Mark wasn’t even our stepfather. One word described what he was. He was acrid. Lina’s sharp. You don’t notice at first; she… Continue Reading
Bill couldn’t breathe. The heavy, wet body of the helicopter pilot crushed painfully against his chest, lolling over his neck in a grotesque hug. Bill swung helplessly at him as the aircraft groaned and lunged in its perch. All Bill… Continue Reading
No matter who Jax asked about the old times, before his people made webs over the dead city, the answer was always similar. Nobody knows, the old stories don’t say. Under the shrugs, a signal almost too faint to hear:… Continue Reading
It’s not so uncommon at holiday time, but — “…folie à trois,” said Halko. “Three lords a-leaping.” He was already at the club, relaxed, comfortable, when the others arrived for a restorative drink. He hadn’t gone to the funerals. No… Continue Reading
Just past noon on the fifth of July, under a clear blue sky and a merciless southern sun, Marcus comes out of the woods. His shirt is sodden, his face streaked with sweat. His right eye is swollen shut, a… Continue Reading
I loved Christmas lights till I knew better. Loved to look out my kitchen window, down the hill, and see the lights twinkling, sparkling, lines going off and on, leading the eye in complicated cuneiform, punctuated with glowing candles and… Continue Reading
It’s a story as old as time: a father’s desire to create a special Christmas memory leads to a tragic chimney accident. Yes, we thought it was strange that Dad missed the frenzy of gift-unwrapping. Yes, we noticed the smoke… Continue Reading
“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.” —J.M. Barrie The question isn’t, can she do it? She knows she can, just as that every morning her son wakes, she hopes it will be his last. Such thoughts are evil,… Continue Reading
Elizabeth belonged to Trina’s grandfather. She was eighty-two years old, although Trina would never have guessed it to look at her; she looked old-fashioned, but not old. Trina played with Elizabeth every Christmas when they visited Grampa, although she was… Continue Reading