They’d passed through the portal just after moonrise. Their ship navigated left, then right, and left again, pulling up to the dock with a scrape and a sigh. Continue reading
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Wishing Well
Source: Rob Swanson Photography
The woods were deep, the path mostly overgrown since the last time she’d padded, barefoot and shining, to find the well. Lost and despairing, Myrna lifted her eyes to the liquid warble and slash of fiery red high above. Continue reading
New World In the Morning
Hunched over the bar rail, leaning into the bowl of free peanuts, having made his way from the bright morning, across a treacherous savannah of broken shells, pull-tabs and a number of suspicious sticky spots, Artie noted he was out of money and therefore, on his final drink. Continue reading
Sunday Morning
I lift my paddle for a moment, hearing but not noting the drip of water that slides off its smooth, blond curve. My canoe slices through the morning cool, bisecting and self-healing the waters as I pass. Below the dark water, silent lake grass caresses sand and small, secret pebbles. Continue reading
Playing Leapfrog
“So, you think if I hop there, launch to the next one over, and make that final leap, it’ll take me across the water, fast enough and close enough to be safe?” Continue reading
