JESSIE • by William F Ward
We scrabble over river rocks and gray pocked stones in the dry creek bed. I pick up a pine branch and throw it. Jessie races off, scoops it up and prances back. She pauses a yard from me, just out… Continue Reading
death of a pet
WARMTH • by Kristine Gill
On the morning Bill Somers put his dog down, I was not on my porch. Most mornings I sit with tea in hand watching as the sun crests Bolduc Hill and the cool night air takes on a warm, heavy… Continue Reading