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
I’m seventy-odd years old and know nothing about ladies of the evening. I’ve heard some of them have hearts of gold. I didn’t recognize the stylish young woman knocking on my hotel room door as a sex trade worker. It… Continue Reading
He spoke as soon as she reached the kitchen. “You go through the boxes on the table. Kimmie left those for you to get rid of.” “Okay, Papa.” The clean-out had begun. Her mother’s things were being sorted and awarded… Continue Reading
At last the little firefly broke the silence between him and the stranger on the branch. “Lovely night without a moon. Bulb’s still dead on the farmhouse porch to boot. Yes sir, nice and dark.” “Paradise indeed,” the bigger fly… Continue Reading
He painted her a picture. He showed it to her one Tuesday, after she got off work. He had been working on it for a while and finally decided it was finished. He knew he was done with the painting,… Continue Reading
The third year of drought left Birdie motherless and mute. For months she’d listened as her parents argued over water, whether small reserves should go to mama’s flower business or the horses. In the end, as hard as it would… Continue Reading