BLUE BLOOD MOON • by Dianne Sefcik
Jim Oldman stood at the top of the world, watching the immense arc of the moon crest the horizon and rise into a sky that was indigo and would soon deepen to black. It was a special moon. A super… Continue Reading
Jim Oldman stood at the top of the world, watching the immense arc of the moon crest the horizon and rise into a sky that was indigo and would soon deepen to black. It was a special moon. A super… Continue Reading
Arthur Norris went back to the shed to fetch gasoline for the mower. In the twilight the straight tracks of newly shaved grass looked like different shades of ribbons spilled from the spool. “Arthur!” he heard her calling. She was… Continue Reading
You’ve come here to see— To see. To see her. That’s right. Ethel. Your wife of sixty-six years. You remember her: hair that was always in rollers, an apron knotted around her waist even though she stopped baking once she… Continue Reading
“See you on Friday at The Jac!” Nancy yells from the back of the black cab before it rattles away down Old Dale Street, rear lights hazy through the mizzle. My raised hand falters mid-air as I take in what… Continue Reading
We could see straight down to the bottom of the Guadalupe river that day. There were turtles, minnows, and rocks covered in algae. We walked along the banks, scoping out the perfect spot to sit and pretend we were carefree.… Continue Reading
I just turned fifty: the same age as my estranged father when he died. Such a thing gets a man to pondering the details of his life. Such thoughts made me get busy, first by cleaning up my dingy old… Continue Reading
Not everyone could see the Death Hunter, but Martha had the gift. When the clouds first gathered on the low desert horizon that year, she knew: He was close. Her mother would have called it her ‘ghost-notion’, and crossed herself… Continue Reading
They sat on the couch staring at the television, he in baggy pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt, she in a faded flannel nightgown and a pair of his black socks. “It’s getting chilly,” she said. “Uh-huh. You want me to… Continue Reading
Ever since his wife died, riding the bus became Oscar’s outing for the day. He once enjoyed walking, but his hips made a simple stroll to the corner a painful experience. Hip replacement surgery was discussed by his doctor, but… Continue Reading
It’s always a struggle first thing in the morning. These stiff, arthritic knees take time to warm up, to loosen, to bend. I’m out of bed now and moving around. The nurses in the home tell me that there are… Continue Reading