When I was almost five, my Aunt Evelyn discovered that my birthday falls on International Talk like a Pirate Day. “ARRRRRRH,” Aunt Ev brandished a hooked hand and waited until I looked up from my cupcake. “This be the tale… Continue Reading
I saw her for the second time in six years at a record store south of Old Town, near the Jazz, Blues and Standards section, leafing past Glen Miller and Thelonius Monk. She was dressed in beige and had her… Continue Reading
I found my sister in the hotel pool, floating just beneath the surface. It was supposed to be our last family holiday before she left for university and she had hoped for a holiday romance. A stranger pumped her chest… Continue Reading