Nita traced the path of a seagull, as it tipped and bounced through the harbor breeze, noting its resemblance to the whitecaps further out and closer to the breakwater. There’s a reminder there, she thought, that a thing is not always as it seems at first glance. Continue reading “Dog Days and a Purple Moon”
We’d started with a couple buckets of ice blocks, and another couple with dried ice. These’d cool down the backyard while creating thick fog in our North Minneapolis back yard. Full sun, tropical temps; we’d lost a bar bet around nude sunbathing in a semi-public place. Continue reading “Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time”
There’d be no dancing in the pub that night. Air quality alerts had been on “Severe” for the past three months, and the popular Sorrowing Gnome, with its airtight construction, was filled with exhausted workers. Pub owner Tommy Finn leaned an elbow against the bar and stared at the TV above.
“Strange men. Is there any other kind?” she sighed, scanning the row of heavy, shaggy heads bent over the bar rail. Continue reading “Reality Bites”