November 3, 1960 Beloved Brother Alwyn, I thought you might like a photo of my new parish home at Mount St. Bernard. Leicestershire will never hold the fondness of my heart like Caldey Island. I miss the whitewashed buildings, my… Continue Reading
On a cold, snowy day in January, as an old song played on the radio, Joe, whose birthday was in September, had more trouble than usual getting ready for school. “Eat your breakfast, son,” his father said. “Today is, what,… Continue Reading
Shortly after she turned 70, Celeste discovered that she was suddenly, remarkably, no longer allergic to cats. “This happens,” her allergist said without resentment or skepticism. “We can’t explain it. Probably has some relation to a change in hormones.” Her… Continue Reading
Paul never liked the refrigerator. His husband had been the one who wanted stainless steel. “But fingerprints wipe right off this one,” he explained when Paul pointed to an eggshell model across the showroom. The refrigerator had drawers for everything… Continue Reading
My car was ugly. Angular, pitted gray, it could barely fly. If it weren’t for Tomiko, I’d feel ashamed picking up my boyfriend Chuanli. He climbed in the passenger seat and kissed my ear as my car’s hologram of Tomiko… Continue Reading
50 minutes until departure “Just 20 seconds?” “No.” “10 seconds?” “Dude, stop.” “One second—” “You can’t do anything in one—” “So five?” He laughs. “Ple-hease!” I try again, squirming in the corner of the hostel couch, stretching my face and… Continue Reading
As I was preparing for class, Lois Blaylock, a fellow member of the English department, burst into my office looking like she had just caught the dean in a compromising position with a chicken. She had been my mentor through… Continue Reading
The boy sneaks past the bathroom, opens the door to his sister’s room, and slips his thin frame through. From her closet he retrieves a dress, a flowery, colorful affair. He leaves, closes the door silently, tiptoes back into his… Continue Reading
Doug was in the living room with his mum. “Did you come in your truck?” she asked. Doug nodded. “Wasn’t that truck a gift from a friend?” “Hugh,” said Doug. “He left it to me, eight years ago, when he… Continue Reading
Ophelia indulged in anger and in grief. Those emotions were sublime and transcended beyond sorrow into morbid delight. It was important to her to enjoy distress. Plant your feet, her girlfriend said, but she never said what to plant them… Continue Reading