A breathy voice swept through Hazel’s mind like the glimpse of a memory: This is your last day. She gazed out from her square view of the world, mind muddled from a combination of medication, insomnia, and disease. Her cloudy,… Continue Reading
We are sitting on two iron chairs you pulled from the rubble, watching the dying, honey-coloured flames caress the remains of the smouldering café, the metal at our backs still warm. Dark smoke, filled with the sharp scent of burnt… Continue Reading
There you are, standing atop the Natural Bridge at Red River Gorge, Kentucky hugging a pine tree, pretending to be afraid to let go. But you aren’t pretending. You’re afraid of heights. It is mid-September, 1984. This picture was taken… Continue Reading
“You seem lost, can I help you?” As she turned into the side street from Third Avenue, Laura felt disoriented. The sidewalk was crowded with people, but one concerned stranger stopped to offer assistance. She swallowed her pride and handed… Continue Reading
Memories of my first day of kindergarten rise like a bubble from oceanic depths toward sunlight. I’m approaching a giant white door ensconced in the towering brick building that is Middleton Elementary. Mike Jamison stands there nervously alone as I… Continue Reading
On my drive home last night, the flakes danced in and out of my car’s headlights, and a dusting of snow moved in low eddies over the pavement. The sounds of Pachelbel’s Canon in D echoed the snow’s dance. The… Continue Reading
Deirdre flexed her arthritic fingers. Today they’d have to do exercises to move their hands. She wheeled up to the door and shut it. Craft Day could stay outside. A moment later, Gerlinde knocked and walked in. Tall, square-jawed, fine… Continue Reading
The crunchy lettuce in her sandwich resounds in her head as she chews, so it’s not until she swallows that Maggie hears the song threading its way through the fug of damp clothes and coffee steam. The melancholic voice conjures… Continue Reading
“God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.” —J.M. Barrie The question isn’t, can she do it? She knows she can, just as that every morning her son wakes, she hopes it will be his last. Such thoughts are evil,… Continue Reading
A tall, ruggedly handsome man gingerly picks his way through a bazaar, trying not to be jostled but failing in the thick crowd. One hand steers a path between patrons of the mem dealer, while the other hand stays protectively… Continue Reading