August 30th, 2005 It’s eerie: the stillness when I looked at everything I ever called home underwater. There was a surge of unease in the air. One that whispered, though the storm had passed, the worst had yet to come.… Continue Reading
She had been talking with the man on the balcony long enough that the beads of condensation on their wine glasses had evaporated. The man’s face reminded her of a beach, full of reddish freckles and seashell-white teeth. Even the… Continue Reading
So I’m a couple blocks from the crib, kicking it on the corner of Louisa St. at that spot in front of the house that used to be a restaurant — that yellow two-story thing. It got the sign up… Continue Reading