Maddelynne Baird stopped at the junction as usual, waiting for the lights. An early evening moon, whiter than all the laundry and shining tiled bathrooms of her workday, lifted her mood from weary to pensive. “This is where I stand,”… Continue Reading
Amile sat across the room from him, sipping a glass of clear moonshine. He watched her, watched the warm glow rise in her cheeks, so much like a blush. She sighed contentedly and opened her eyes. She looked at his… Continue Reading
The ticketing agent looked at me, then down at Perceval, then back at me. Her eyebrows edged up toward her hairline and she opened her mouth. I handed her a small white business card. I am a Service Animal and… Continue Reading
I turn my sunken cheek onto the warm concrete and see you down the sidewalk in your fluorescent shorts and tank top, squinting at my fallen body and calculating your odds of getting back to your run. Maybe you are… Continue Reading
If you asked Aliou what he wanted from life, he would know what to tell you. He would stand straight and say: “Sir, I want to go to university”. And he wouldn’t be lying. Not exactly. When his uncles were… Continue Reading
“This woman is a witch!” boomed Reverend Josephus Drage. Reverend Drage, for six months now the vicar of Fellwood, preached fear and punishment — much easier for him than preaching hope and redemption, as they were more fitting to the… Continue Reading
I have all my memories stored in jars, lined up in date order. One for each year; their sizes vary depending on how many memories I have for each year. When the girls were young, and Tim was still alive,… Continue Reading
We hadn’t spoken since we returned from the hospital. Ma and I lay side by side on our backs on a narrow bed in the guest room of my sister’s house. There was no place to even hold hands in… Continue Reading
Hania grew up in a southwest Detroit neighborhood where most people understood English well enough to follow radio broadcasts of Joe Louis fights and fireside chats. But they were far more comfortable conversing in Polish. It was the language of… Continue Reading
Epiphany: I need lemons. A tumble of lemons, a volcano of fresh explosive citrus, the obese mamas with that extraterrestrial shine, not those dinky rough-hide goblins lurking at the bottom of produce boxes. Fifty will do, I think. No, seventy;… Continue Reading