At first, Gina thought the day was cloudless, but, leashing Tilda and stepping outside, she saw the entire sky was one diffuse, glaring white cloud. She fished around in her tote bag for sunglasses. Poor Tilda, blind and incontinent, barked… Continue Reading
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