Soil entombs no deeper chagrin for gilded nativity than barned birth So how does empty blue of sky exult any more than the brown odor of earth?
Ira pulled the door to Jean’s apartment closed. He had spent the last three nights trying to sleep on her couch. Davy, her brother, was in her spare room. Ira was an old man, and had expected to die before any of his children. What little hope he had of that was gone. Jean was … Continue reading The Promises of Another Day
I followed the hearse in. And then, I drove around until I found him. He was feeding pigeons popcorn in the park across from the big stone church on North Second. He sat on a park bench in the sun with his back to the street, but I knew it was him. If you grow … Continue reading What Neither of Us Wanted to Hear, but What I Knew Already
Farely was gone. They had taken him to the vet. His tail thumped on the gurney. Then it stopped. The eyes glazed, and he was gone. Dianne was surprised to find herself thinking about it two days later. She had not particularly liked the grubby old dog—he was Doug’s. But she stood at the kitchen … Continue reading Washing the Dog’s Blue Dish
Toxic The only place I have seen death is in Hospitals. There is an inefficiency of death there. But a darkness of hope for those who will live yet beyond the walls, who look out on the Old Fan Mountain where they will walk again, out on the sun-silver water of the Madison where they … Continue reading The Last Worst Place
And suddenly nothing. Nothing. Zip. Miranda Velositer wasn’t saying anything. Nada. A typical hour with Miranda Velositer consisted of at least sixty-eight minutes— sometimes as much as eighty minutes—of monologue. Reggie Velositer would know. He has spent, by his own calculation, twenty-five million hours, give or take, with Miranda. Twenty-five million interminable hours, most of … Continue reading Getting an Earful
I have, on a moonless night, turned from the dark fail of mankind’s madness, to look on the dappled ageless sky-- before man made God and time-- and seen no emptiness, nor God, nor time— just the spark that gains my lively living eye. Here is a greater thing than faith: from dust of stars … Continue reading Even in Darkness
As far as most people were concerned Constance Sliver had a perfect name. She was nothing if not reliable and dependable, and generously so. She was also a slight little slip of a woman with a wide, tooth-bright smile that stretched ear to ear across the hollows of her cheeks. Her eyes looked like two … Continue reading Connie Sliver puts Ian to Sleep