“Oh, snap,” Father Pat said, preparing to step out of the warm rectory into an icy Nor’easter. His clerical collar prohibited the use of stronger words, even though he’d heard them all many times, often followed by an “Oh, Sorry.”… Continue Reading
Dane sat outside waiting for the bus. He wore dark green coveralls and a pair of plain work boots. A brown paper bag, tenuously housing his lunch, hung limply between his legs, its opening twisted and untwisted in his fists.… Continue Reading
I have had an enduring pain in my side for three days now, doctor. You have told me to stop calling this line, that you are not here anymore, that we have no patient-client privileges anymore. But doctor. My stomach… Continue Reading
After my mother died, my father, Jack Weber, moved to his condo in Florida. No more lawyering for Lobo Meat Pack. For years his condo was off limits to my mother and me. Dad took his R&Rs down there while… Continue Reading
By the end of the road trip we were all exhausted and none of us wanted to be there. There was only one night left before our long drive home. My son was ten and refused to do anything other… Continue Reading
As he entered the coop the rooster stood its ground. Standing in the corner of the cold pen having pecked itself raw, the bird didn’t look right. Stacks’ first thought was human error. He knew all too well, the natural… Continue Reading
The beach is devoid of humanity, save for the lone figure walking along the water’s edge. The gulls vie for her attention, their incessant squawking competing with the waves crashing angrily as if they do not want to make landfall.… Continue Reading
My husband insisted our phones tracked our every move, that we were never truly free. “Those photos people upload, that life, it’s all an illusion,” Ian said after deleting his account. “You have all of me, love.” His fingers twisted… Continue Reading
Don’t go swimming if your pockets are filled with rocks. That’s the advice my father gave me just before he backed jerkily out of our driveway and putted down our suburban, tree-lined street with the sun glistening off the chipped… Continue Reading
The children grew heavier the more I watched them. Their little thighs puffed up, their backsides ballooning, their disproportionate heads leaden as their fingers chubby and exploring reached for the ponies’ ears, and they kicked their sides as if they… Continue Reading