Matthew and John met under the Fourth Street bridge as they often did. But this was no ordinary meeting. Tonight was a special occasion. Each man carried a cardboard box under his arm which had been wrapped up in great… Continue Reading
There’s nothing wrong with Snug Harbor. It’s a classy, dignified, and orderly place. The shows start and end right on time. But of all the jazz spots on Frenchmen Street, it’s my least favorite. It’s just a little too orderly.… Continue Reading
Glad I left the Rose and Crown. Gets rowdy after midnight. Only art in that place was on forearms, only religion was on fingers. Everyone dressed the same. Skint. But still 40-quid Fred Perry double-tips, buttoned-up, pinching against 20-quid Harringtons.… Continue Reading
Mason skipped down 7th Street eyes wide open, soaking in the sights and sounds. He glanced back at his parents following. His father grumbled. His mom smiled as if trying to enjoy herself even though she didn’t like football. Mason… Continue Reading
He was young once, I remind myself, searching for an outline of youth beneath the sagging maroon paunches underneath his eyes. He reaches for my hand, and I make an effort to imagine away the wrinkles and tan-colored liver spots… Continue Reading
Smoke started coming out of the Corolla’s vents on the freeway and I was still in my costume. To make matters worse, I couldn’t fly. Since Mom kicked me out I had been living at the Sunrise Motel and spending… Continue Reading
I used to see the Poor Girl on the way to school. She had curly blonde hair, liked to skip, and didn’t have a coat. I think that’s how I found out she was poor; I asked my mother why… Continue Reading
Eric walked through Baltimore’s Inner Harbor in his favorite t-shirt — blue with NAVY stamped on the front in gold block letters. Mid-morning and he was already sweating through the shirt. He wished it were a lighter color, gray or… Continue Reading
“Man, we were good buddies. My dad always said he was a hard worker too. He hired Jake, my dad did. He worked like a bull too. Back then I don’t think he had much of a home life so… Continue Reading
I hate driving in snow, Margret thinks as she dumps a bag of ornaments onto the passenger seat of her car. She doesn’t even know why she does this. David’s been gone six years now, and their spoiled brat children… Continue Reading