Above the timberline, stunted trees of high altitude are little more than memory. As far as the eye can see, reindeer moss is sparked with tiny white flowers and golden clusters of cloudberry. Continue reading “Homeward Hike”
She picks up a marble, rolling and squeezing it in her palm at a searing memory of betrayal. Continue reading “Scraps From the Past”
She stood by last night’s bonfire. Flames leapt high, our drunken faces and dancing limbs in hideous relief, like Dante’s inferno on the shore of this northern bay. Continue reading “Red Sky at Morning”
Sighing, she trotted off to the kitchen for more coffee.
Returning, she sat again and watched the cursor blink.
Emil leaned back in the other chair, barber’s cape rustling over his sagging paunch.
Leon raised his shears from Emil’s thinning pate, “How can I help, Billy?” He didn’t really want to know, but he was a businessman.
“Dahlia’s gone and told me she wants another semester in Germany.” Billy buried his face in his hands. “It’s like she doesn’t want to get married!” Continue reading “Cutting Ties and Mudslides”