I pull dresses and pants, jackets and blouses from the closet and stuff them into plastic trash bags. Given the pandemic, I couldn’t find a charity to take Pearl’s clothes even though, for all the COVID patients she treated, she… Continue Reading
Hania grew up in a southwest Detroit neighborhood where most people understood English well enough to follow radio broadcasts of Joe Louis fights and fireside chats. But they were far more comfortable conversing in Polish. It was the language of… Continue Reading
A nurse unplugs me from something. Aggie bites her lower lip. Our son and daughter and their spouses look ready to cry. Even my oh-so-world-weary teenaged grandson swallows hard. If I could, I’d whisper, “Rosebud.” Anything to lighten things up.… Continue Reading
From across the street, Phil watched the wind blow Stanley’s few downy, white hairs horizontal. It yanked open his union-logoed jacket and flapped the sides like the wings of a flightless bird. Stanley’s son — Bobby? Billy? Barry? Something like… Continue Reading
The dirt-scratchers, sheep-watchers, camel-shit shovelers — how easily I awed them. I’d slowly pull on a cloak, blinding in its whiteness compared to their filthy rags. Brandish scrolls. Unfurl astrological charts. By the time I was done, they’d be elbowing… Continue Reading
Romo always had considered his afternoon nap a luxury, a perk of retirement. But one day that nap was more an escape, a means to knit a suddenly raveled sleeve of care. A doctor had told Romo that he would… Continue Reading
When I was twelve, I often wished Uncle Pete were my father. My own dad treated me well and helped me in all sorts of important ways. But his tastes ran to hiking and rare stamps, while Uncle Pete hunted… Continue Reading
Here’s how shit-canning works at our shop. Near the end of the day one is summoned to a conference room to sign papers and abide ritual expressions of sympathy. Then, one must leave the building immediately. Shortly after close of… Continue Reading
With surprisingly little difficulty, she’d managed to get a driver’s license, birth certificate and all sorts of other official documents. She’d also hacked the relevant databases, all of which now confirmed that she was Mesko, Melinda. Female. 5’4.” Eyes green.… Continue Reading
The hat I want to wear — the black one with the little veil — is in the basement. Four-year-old Alice follows me down. She wears a new black jumper and patent-leather shoes. I remind her that we have to… Continue Reading