I lifted my three-year-old daughter, Willa onto my shoulders, and then we continued up the hill to take in the view of the Georgia pines and perhaps spot a deer, or the great-horned owl that…
Browsing Category Nonfiction
Precocious Slow
An excerpt… My mother made love to her mirror, twice a day, morning and evening, every day of her life. Before bedtime, this involved the soft, slow strokes of her fingertips across her face and…
Nebulous Light
The day my mother died I learned that the commonest noun in the English language is time. That morning I sat alone by her bed, stroking her forehead as her eyes fluttered open and closed…
A Lesson on the Road
An excerpt… Puerto Vallarta is one of those glad and gamboling Mexican beach towns where everybody’s always stopping you to ask whether you’re married or not. Considering the substantial number of newly wedded Norteamericanos who…
Yucca Blooming
An excerpt… I was a tourist. I was a tourist on a sheep farm in Indiana. I was a tourist in a man’s bed. I was a tourist in the world of rules and business…