story

The Drafty Photograph

“…That firecracker of a child came to me in the time of red pistachio leaves. She loved reaching this part of the book…”

The Drafty Photograph

Dance Of The Ages

It were as though the seat was a'glow with the ghost of that all-knowing Woman who, once upon a cool September day, bought him this very suit in which he now shrank year after year. And a Golden Grin bubbled up to his time-tattoo'd face. 

Dance Of The Ages

An Evergreen Legend

"The lore says her husband buried her beneath a nameless pile of stones. The Earth swallowed up her wants and dreams as it did her remains. And all there be of her is a strange legend in these, the woods of her daughter's son's cousin's step-mother's property..."

An Evergreen Legend

A Still World

"...and yet with every desire to disturb the vast slate of lake- wide, eternal, and perfect before her. It could be the envy of ice..."

A Still World

Winter

"She sees him bow his smiling craggy face down so his lobe meets her lips. The way he does this- one would think he is smaller than her..."

Winter

The Oldest Mountain

"And there she is again. All around him. Lifting him towards the clouds. Up towards the moon. There comes her imploring howl,"Almost there. Don’t give up..."

The Oldest Mountain

The Scent Of Red

"She can't see the pigeons anymore. But she hears them take to the sky in bursts. The sunlight breathes on her knitted skin. She can't see the tower anymore..."

The Scent Of Red

After Catastrophe

"The eyes of the inquisitive children hit them all at once with a piercing collective ignorance that seemed to bring its own desolate breeze..."

After Catastrophe

The Storm and the Question

"The louder the rain came, the softer the message and yet it was all she could hear. And with thirsty ears she drank it's faint words..."

The Storm and the Question

The Corner

She caressed the steel and the tines, then the snowy porcalin which contained that bottomless dark roast. "What is around that edge of bricks?", She whispered to the morning gusts of wind.

The Corner

From Widow to Bride

"For a Widow-Turned-Bride quite often needs that last moment to say goodbye to her previous chapter and hello to the next one; yea, and to breathe..."

From Widow to Bride

The Fluttering Phantom

"An interesting detail about her was that she had nine fingers and no college. Yea, but that didn't matter. In the name of that fluttering eye-lash of hers- it didn't matter."

The Fluttering Phantom