High society. Twenty-five floors high. And the floors are all glass, mirrored, swallowing the lights from a panoramic city, distorting them, condensing them, fanning them out in a rainbow across the expanse of some two hundred square feet. A few… Continue Reading
The line is an unruly squiggle. I watch them wait for portraits with the mall Santa — their faces dulled by 2 a.m fevers and preschool reports, these husbands and wives who loved a boy or a girl before the… Continue Reading
Early that morning, they boarded a plane that would fly them to their daughter’s college graduation in Spokane, Washington. They carefully stowed their carry-ons in an overhead compartment and slid down their row. He eased himself into the middle seat… Continue Reading
The sculpture in the atrium of St. John’s Hospital was a nine-foot visual train wreck. It was tortured, and distorted and vague, and its nearly naked body was indecently muscular. Deirdre’s personal opinion was that dead saints shouldn’t sport six-pack… Continue Reading