“Alas,” Lady Arabella sighed, holding a palm out from under her parasol. Days of full darkness had been followed by months of half light. “It seems the sun will never again shine, nor rain warm our moonless nights.” Continue reading
Stories
Cutting Ties and Mudslides
Billy burst through the front door of the barbershop, sliding across the checkered floor and into an empty barber chair. He twirled twice and stopped.
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
Scars of Ambition
We come down the winding stone stairs in two groups of three, hands cupped to steady the splash and flicker of fragrant oil lamps. The deeper we go, the louder the rush and roll of the underground river flowing through the apothecary. Here is where the souls of the Mothers slow for the earthly; here is where appeals to heal scars from ill deeds are most likely granted.
The Long Drive Home
“Are we there yet?’
Valerie hunched her shoulders and pressed her forehead against the passenger-side window. She hated her younger brother–hated being trapped in the back seat with him on this faux family vacation. Continue reading
Cool Water or Writer’s Block?
The firefighter pulled off his helmet, face streaked with sweat and dust from a raging fire, now controlled.
He’d single-handedly saved an even dozen citizens that night. He felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down into the wide eyes of a tiny tot.
“Thanks, Mister!” the child lisped. “Want a TMCoke and a smile?”
“Thanks, but I’d rather have some cool water.”
“Good choice!”
(No. Just…No. Highlight, then delete.)
A Fish Tale from Lake Country
It couldn’t be un-seen. It was right there in front of me: the giant spaghetti bowl, the splash of Tante Lianna’s special sauce, meatballs rolling off the table and onto the floor, parmesan spread all over the dining room table, like sleet in a Minnesota mid-June storm.
Normal. But really…not so much.
And the noodles! Seemingly caught in mid-flight from the bowl, they lay heavy as nightcrawlers escaping a flooded sidewalk, the aftermath of the aforementioned storm, turned to punishing rain.
And Uncle Wilford, face down in the middle of it all.
He should have heeded the warning twinge in Tante Lianna’s trick knee. Continue reading
Friends With Benefits (or The Monster Inside)
He looked like death warmed over. That is, if death warmed over was a once-in-a-lifetime, luscious lothario. Lean and broad-shouldered at 6’3’’, he towered over my compact 5’3”. His eyes gleamed intense as the full moon above, his collar-length hair swept back in lines of seafoam white over ocean dark. Still good, even though a little worn around some edges and drooping a little in others; well worth the awkwardness of one more date. Continue reading
Valley 