I have had three love relationships in my life, all with women named Alice. I didn’t start out to do that. My first love just happened to be named Alice. I can’t say that there was a lot of chemistry… Continue Reading
Don’t go swimming if your pockets are filled with rocks. That’s the advice my father gave me just before he backed jerkily out of our driveway and putted down our suburban, tree-lined street with the sun glistening off the chipped… Continue Reading
Oregon’s teeming woods: an escape from New York City, from screens. Right now, there’s no wind, only the warm air and beaming sun. My lungs are open, my muscles eased, my mind glowing. “Ah!” Through a wall of trees, I… Continue Reading
The children grew heavier the more I watched them. Their little thighs puffed up, their backsides ballooning, their disproportionate heads leaden as their fingers chubby and exploring reached for the ponies’ ears, and they kicked their sides as if they… Continue Reading
I lined up the shot by habit more than hope. The sheriff’s face wavered in the heat, not heroic or villainous — just tired, creased by years of deciding who mattered and who didn’t. I squeezed the trigger. Click. The… Continue Reading
You want to hear a ghost story, cadets? Sure, I’ll tell you a real spacers’ ghost story. No, everyone’s heard tell of zombie cyborgs or cybernetic hiveminds that impress people against their will, so I’ll spare you another take on… Continue Reading
Before I reached the toy aisle, the lavender scent of the unicorn called to me. I had to find which one it was and ran to the shelf of ponies. You can have one, mom says and then we have… Continue Reading
The Pentecostal girl spends all night talking to the electric wheel in the sky. The sky turns from black to blue while the wheel spins its yarns of reckless wisdom and the secret curvature of time, telling her to board… Continue Reading
And the door swings open. And the door swings open and open again and never shuts all the way. All sorts of things come in through the door. People. Ideas. Gifts. Tombstones. R.I.P. this. R.I.P. that. Give to the poor,… Continue Reading
Dad insisted on two things when we were growing up: fireworks at the lake for Fourth of July and the slog to Punxsutawney to see good ol’ Phil every February second. Maybe Brendan and I shouldn’t have rolled our eyes… Continue Reading
