The song on the radio was from high school. She and her friend used to sing it as loud as possible when they drove to soccer practice. She would’ve turned it up, but she was in the backseat of her… Continue Reading
I swish the curtains open, and the sunlight nearly blinds me. Typical — on the day it matters, it pours with rain, but on the day after it matters, it’s bright and sunny. Just my luck. I shuffle towards the… Continue Reading
Mom’s ashes are in the urn on the table, and I smile with my lips at people who hold pieces of her. I am greedy for every fragment, but hugs are extortion. “She never got to be a grandmother,” one… Continue Reading
For years Teresa ate pasta twice a week, on Tuesdays and Sundays, and it had become, she believed, a necessary part of life. She found refuge in a warm bowl of bucatini or farfalle, even after the most hectic days… Continue Reading
In that last hard winter of the war, the farmhouse looked almost like a cabin for the enjoyments of the season. Those gorgeous drifts of snow would have burned your toes to stumps, if you had no boots. No one… Continue Reading