Fiction

    This morning: A tree down on every other street blocking the roads I traveled in Queens.     This evening: A tree down on every other street blocking the roads I traveled in Queens.     Last...

PART TWO “I came to see what the new girl made for dinner,” said the Devil, standing among the maimed cooks in his Hell’s kitchen.     “Me?” I asked innocently.     “Yes you....

    There could at least have been an escalator. I mean if you’re being sent to Hell, it was a little over the top to force a person to walk down the thousand miles of winding stairs to an eternity of suffering. The staircase...

Part Two      Charles Lord’s loss of control provoked a panic attack. When asked why the next exhibit was behind schedule, he screamed at me.     “I am in charge of all Museum exhibits. Don’t...

    My mother sits in her yellow leather recliner. It cradles her the way a catcher’s mitt embraces a baseball, her body’s impressions molded into its contours.

   Twentieth-century Peruvian explorer Roberto Penny Cabrera, our desert guide and my old high school friend, is waiting for us, standing in the middle of the Panamericana Highway at dust-covered kilometer marker 190.   ...

   The brothers called Uncle Archie a nabob. Years later I found out what the word meant and as usual they got it wrong. A nabob was someone who went to India (usually British) and acquired great wealth. The brothers thought it meant a...

   Having attended nursery school since the age of 3, I skipped kindergarten and was enrolled in first grade at the public school a few blocks from our Brooklyn apartment. Even in 1951 the school had appeared ancient with its brick walls...

   There was a lovely relaxed hum of activity in the class. It was the kind of sound that once in a while allowed a teacher to take a mental step back from what she was doing, and actually say to herself, “Hey, this is good.”...