Paris is a city of many things — lights, sounds, whispers… and cats. Cats haunt modern Paris like fur-clad ghosts — whiskered faces through window panes, gray mousers plying their trade in alleyways, rooftop cats and cats who sleep and… Continue Reading
She’s just a touch tinier than the rest of the cheerleaders, so Viv is the one who gets thrown into the air. She likes feeling like she’s flying. She feels special up there. Maybe even magical. When she goes upwards,… Continue Reading
Mom always told me my blackberry pie tasted like hers. We’d both be bent at the waist, shoulders hunched, sturdily pushing rolling pins through flour-coated dough in the tiny kitchen. Heat would pool at the back of my neck and… Continue Reading
We could see straight down to the bottom of the Guadalupe river that day. There were turtles, minnows, and rocks covered in algae. We walked along the banks, scoping out the perfect spot to sit and pretend we were carefree.… Continue Reading
We scrabble over river rocks and gray pocked stones in the dry creek bed. I pick up a pine branch and throw it. Jessie races off, scoops it up and prances back. She pauses a yard from me, just out… Continue Reading
Through my early years on West Taylor Avenue, I remember spending many lazy afternoons resting my elbows on the windowsill of my upstairs bedroom window and watching the comings and goings at Bernie’s Bar across the street, naming the pigeons… Continue Reading
The door swings open, and a big, too-likable face gazes down at me. “Hi,” the twenty-something says, inviting me in and — I’m not kidding — playing host. “Want a beer? I’ve got Guinness.” A beer? Seriously? “No,” I snap.… Continue Reading
Before I met you, Luke, I’d known nothing but flight — staying just long enough until the bills began to pile up. Not that that changed. When I arrived in Memphis, I didn’t even have a stroller for James, just… Continue Reading
One early Monday morning in August, the air was already shimmering when Charlie came into work. He inhaled broiling asphalt and rubber, with a hint of smoke. Blinding rays glinted off rows of windshields. He rolled up his sleeves and… Continue Reading
In my hand I held a knotted pole, about three feet long and two inches wide. You could lean on it, use it as a walking stick, whittle it; most importantly, it had a square of coarse plastic sheeting nailed… Continue Reading