Every night as a child, Hannah’s Oma had tucked her into bed with tales of changelings that switched with children if parents weren’t vigilant. Hannah still knew the rules to find a Wechselbalg: they can’t touch iron, can’t eat eggshells,… Continue Reading
My grandmother’s house was full of clocks. They were never wound properly, their haphazard ticking all over the place — a cacophony of irregular mechanical heartbeats — so at any given moment one of them was busy striking or chiming,… Continue Reading
“Tell us, Grandma, please!” the girls said. “Oh, well, it’s not like you have it now, with your beautiful DNA bracelets and your fabulous Russian dances…” “No, Grandma, we’re not yet twenty-one!” Jessica said. “We’re only children.” “Oh, yes,” Grandma… Continue Reading
My grandmother’s voice sounded like static, the scratchy noise you hear as you are tuning into an AM radio station. Her awkwardly unique way of communicating was virtually unintelligible to most anyone outside our family circle. When I was around… Continue Reading
If I ignore the door hanging half off its hinges and the swallow’s nest surveying the dust from beneath the exposed center beam, Nana’s cottage is little changed from fifteen years ago, when Dad left me here to “find my… Continue Reading
Katie’s fingers shook as she opened the chocolate box and offered the selection to Phil. It’d been a while since she’d used this test, reserved only for third dates. The final compatibility check. After a string of bad hook-ups, her… Continue Reading
“Join hands for prayers,” said Grandma Mercy. Little Thomas cringed. He hated saying prayers before meals, especially in public. Worse, the server had put the steaming pepperoni pizza with extra cheese right under his nose. How could anyone pray with… Continue Reading
Sissy had grown tired of going up and down the hill. Tired of looking at the green of the Appalachians. Tired of looking at Mr. Dixon across the street on his riding mower with his oh so flat and lovely… Continue Reading
“This used to be a pirate’s cove, you know.” The water lapped against the side of the boat as the old man lifted the oars out of the water, resting his arms. The boy looked up from the golden wrapped… Continue Reading
“You not can to eat Chicken a Sea tuna fish in a Friday,” I heard Nona say to my mother in the kitchen. Nona is the Italian word for grandmother. My Nona lived on the other side of our double… Continue Reading