fiction

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...

    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...

   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....

   We moved to Sammy’s Beach in East Hampton on Labor Day, Sept. 1, 1975. My 10-year-old daughter and 8-year-old son would start school two days later. Most of our belongings remained in our suburban New Jersey home and would have...

   The Star welcomes submissions of essays for its “Guestwords” column, of between 700 and 1,200 words, and of short fiction, between 1,000 and 2,000 words.
   Authors can either e-mail their pieces (in text...

   I was congratulating myself on a deep, dreamless sleep that had only been interrupted by my need to urinate. I fully expected to fall back into it effortlessly. I looked out of the lace curtains that framed our bedroom window. The...