“Madam President, the delegation is ready.” Gloria didn’t glance towards the doorway, instead stroking the smoothness of a shot glass between her thumb and forefinger. “I hate Awakening Day celebrations. Have I mentioned that, Clarence?” “Every year, Madam.” She sighed.… Continue Reading
She keeps the sun inside her pocket, front right, just underneath the Moon and Mars. If you ask to see it, she’ll smile and tell you to be careful and hold out her palm. They won’t look that big, really,… Continue Reading
“This house is too big,” Nora said at breakfast. Craig turned away from the TV, puffy eyes magnified by his bifocals. “Those retirement communities are maintenance-free. We should think about moving.” Moving? She meant hiring a cleaning service. “Oh, please,… Continue Reading
More than forty years, now, and if I knew how to draw I could draw you every detail of the scene. Maybe it was that look he had about him of the young James Coburn, and his perfect timing. Must… Continue Reading
“Will I tell you yesterday?” The child mumbled against encroaching sleep. “You will.” His mother stroked his sweaty forehead. “I don’t want to forget.” He rolled away and shivered. “You won’t.” The mother pressed her eyes shut. She refused to… Continue Reading
My Aunt once told me that love comes uninvited. She offered no context, and because of my young age I did not demand one. She was a widow who fell in love at an inopportune time. My disapproving family called… Continue Reading
“Knock-knock,” you say. “Who’s there,” she asks. “Boo.” “Boo who?” “Oh, don’t cry,” you say. “It’s only a joke.” She’s twenty years old, the kid sister of one of your classmates from your Trinity College days. She leans in close… Continue Reading
My world turned upside down and I was hurtling down the tree-lined slope screaming, holding tight to the rope, egged on by shouts of glee and laughter from behind. My green muffler sailed out in the wind created by the… Continue Reading
Tree sap popped inside the fireplace. Head slumped in a sagging recliner as old and rumpled as himself, Nathan Fletcher’s mind fixed on another Christmas. “Evening in Paris,” he muttered. “What, Grandpa?” Bailey’s thumbs skipped atop a pink Game Boy.… Continue Reading
“Dad, there’s a car in the driveway,” Andy said. I turned my attention away from the evening newspaper I was reading and walked into kitchen to join him. Sure enough, there was a car in our driveway. It wasn’t my… Continue Reading