I’ve never shot a gun, and suddenly, Quinton is pressing the grip of a long-nosed revolver into my palm. I don’t anticipate its weight. The chilly steel. We’re cousins, but I’m new to life in Parched River. I’m used to… Continue Reading
Paul looked down at the screen in his hands and sighed. It was the last day of September and he could see the looming winter months of unemployment as clearly as he could see the storm gathering overhead. One bolt… Continue Reading
Bill sat on a bench by the village green. He figured it was a Sunday as the little shop was to be closed all day. He read an old newspaper he’d found until he got so hungry that he couldn’t… Continue Reading
That summer I was sixteen. I had a job at a dog groomer’s. I cleaned clumps of hair out of shower drains. I brushed down show dogs. I clipped long, crescent shaped toenails, trying my hardest not to cut the… Continue Reading
Yuly and I trekked down to El Malecon to find Don Manuel. The old man spent his days riding his antique three-wheel bicycle up and down the sidewalk adjacent to Havana’s seawall to hawk the used goods his daughter —… Continue Reading
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