Every morning, before the sun or just after the sun has come depending on the season, I sip my coffee and watch the men push the cart. They are going uphill in a hurry, up…
Browsing Category Fiction
What is Remembered, Lives
We pushed an air conditioner strapped to a metal dolly all the way uptown. We opened two bottles of beer by the window, sat cross-legged on an unfolded yoga mat, tapped the cold tips together …
A Nearness that Sustains
My wife’s hometown of Woodview, Pennsylvania lies an hour west of Centralia, a place we pass on the drive in from John F. Kennedy Airport. “It’s been on fire for over sixty years,” Amber explains….
regarding my absence
Pearl— The first time I saw the heifer was the morning Clarke brought me back from Lexington in early June. She was out front, chewing on crabgrass around the porch. I thought, first, that must…
Body of Actual
I always wanted to be a weatherwoman. It was a simple and steady flight inside of me that encountered little turbulence. I liked being at the center of something so fundamental, something that affected everyone,…