A mild breeze pushes at my back as I walk across my yard to Stephanie’s. She crouches in front of the wilted rose bush, studying its leaves. “How goes the gardening?” I ask, even though I can see for myself… Continue Reading
Mike wished Dad and Robert would stop jabbering. He laid down his cards. “Straight flush.” Robert tossed his hand in with the discards. “You got me, Chief.” “Come down to Tampa and I’ll show you a professional game,” Dad said. “Senior… Continue Reading
The wrens came in early March, building a nest of twigs within the ivy that grew in a twisted cascade from the old butter churn planter in Barbara’s sunroom. The old woman took to watching them, her face hovering scant… Continue Reading
(in the summer of 2012 the London Olympics coincided with the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee) It’s only money: that phrase had repeated a thousand times in Leuka’s head, but it didn’t help. At least it was a fine summer’s day: it… Continue Reading
In 1979, Le Pont des Arts collapsed when a barge travelling the Seine collided with the piers of the bridge. It was closed and unoccupied at the time so there were no injuries. No physical injuries. The barge captain suffered… Continue Reading
The phone rang at 2:21 a.m. I will never forget it. One doesn’t forget moments like that. I had grown accustomed to your calls coming at odd hours, but we talked just yesterday. Even in my slumber, I knew you… Continue Reading
In my dreams, I’m Romeo, Casanova… Lothario, even. I swirl into a room and the girls swoon, their eyes bright as icicles snapped from the eaves of their flash-frozen hearts. My glance did the freezing, but my touch warms them;… Continue Reading
My uncle lived in the warehouse district of Toledo, not far from a Pizza Papalis and a Blarney Irish Pub. He didn’t work, lived on government checks and “gifts” from my parents. My father blamed his unemployment on a “poor… Continue Reading
“Were you both informed when you made your appointment that I am a trainee counselor?” asked Peter. “My trainer is in the next room behind the one-way mirror.” “S’alright,” said Ella, a small, red-faced woman in her forties. Her husband,… Continue Reading
He still sang Verdi in the shower. She listened and planned to leave him. Twenty years ago, when she was seventeen and smitten, she’d considered his singing romantic: her elegant, cultured calculus teacher serenading her while he soaped his graying… Continue Reading