Pamela opened her wardrobe cupboard wide and was strangely disappointed to see the array of widow’s weeds. Old-fashioned dresses and suits that should have been

Heartbeat born of my heartbeat, but I will always be a stranger to you, another man your father, your mother my lover when she shouldn’t

Celina was the first to arrive at the lake house. Gael would join her later that afternoon for their monthly rendezvous. They both lived in

“I heard they called 1-800 GOT-Junk,” my aunt says on the phone. “The crew arrived early, before dawn. Took toilet seat covers and sheets. Even emptied

On my bureau sits a pair of my baby shoes. Vintage white leather high-tops, cracked with age, toes scuffed raw to a dusty brown. Caked

Bart puts what he promises is his last cigarette into his mouth, flicking alight his little zippo with practiced flourish. He got it when he

I looked out the picture window in the parlor. Oak trees lined the drive, heavy with Spanish moss hanging like silvery garland. The black bruise

“Proprietary. As though we were his to command.” That was how Astrid put it to her friend after dinner, when they were – at last

He opened his eyes to the sun tinted white wall next to her bed, a glaze of burnt orange filling up all he could see.

“You been there?” I ask. On the television is Las Vegas. Sports cars fly over the pavement disrupting crowds of tourists, and knocking over hot

Time has a way of running memories through the dryer one cycle too many, and sometimes they come out too small, or too stretched, or

They took no classes together, and, after that first year, never attended the same school, but somewhere, inside the scattered years of their lives, there

Please have your props at the ready:  A little tin box, A little yellowed bag with white, frayed string, Cunning letters that make up cunning

I watched him for a moment sitting on the dock.  His back was facing me, his eyes toward the water.  He didn’t know I was

Nestled in the narrow streets of Palma de Mallorca, among the layers of green and yellow shutters behind slim garden terraces, where the raw strum