Fabia wasn’t sure why her entrails grew suddenly cold, just where the baby had begun to stir. She wasn’t superstitious, she’d laughed at the crazy predictions of Aurelia the retired Vestal Virgin like everyone else in the city. When Aurelia… Continue Reading
At ten in the morning, the day was gathering steam, the sun blazing with indifference, exposing wounds with its heat. The whisper of a salty breeze fluttered across the dark pavement and tickled our cheeks, meager relief as we marched… Continue Reading
Silence dripped from the maples in the back yard, drifted down like snow, was stirred by a passing breeze and pooled around the feet of the boy, slowly climbing his ankles, trying to hang on. He shuffled his feet, trying… Continue Reading
Cal was picked to play only because none of the older guys wanted to be catcher. The older guys wanted to drink beers that they had gotten despite being underage and they wanted to make out with their girlfriends in… Continue Reading
August 30th, 2005 It’s eerie: the stillness when I looked at everything I ever called home underwater. There was a surge of unease in the air. One that whispered, though the storm had passed, the worst had yet to come.… Continue Reading
He cried when he was born. Mom had said so. But don’t all newborns cry? Leaving warmth and safety for the cold, bright world? He cried in his cot before going to sleep. Yeah, Mom had told him that, too.… Continue Reading
From the closet, I remove the wedding dress my mother made for me thirty years ago. I wanted a form-fitting bodice flaring into a three-tiered ruffled skirt. She sewed a basic bell-shaped gown. You slip into the dress. I zip… Continue Reading
The Christmas tree lights were twinkling. Just a minute, they’re not supposed to do that. Then the room was plunged into darkness. Somebody screamed. It was my niece, obviously. The phrase “we won’t make a drama out of a crisis”… Continue Reading
When Zeynep was just a tiny thing, wobbling around like a just-born calf, she liked all the seasons in equal measure — the cherry blossoms, the dense summer canopies, leaf piles, the conifers strung in lights. The world was surprising… Continue Reading
“The helplessness I felt when the bombs exploded, and mustard gas crept like ground fog into our trenches is hard to describe,” my Great-Uncle Leo said as we painted his barn red. After I dropped out of college, I became… Continue Reading