Fiction

I spend eight God-awful hours a day, six days a week, lugging lumber as mosquitoes whine around my head. I didn’t sign on for babysitting.

CONTINUED FROM LAST WEEK

Ahkee awoke feeling like an ear of corn roasting in its husk. Her sleeping bag was too heavy for the warm spring morning, but it was the only...

Nate and Al’s deli on North Beverly Drive had a handful of late breakfast lingerers scattered among the booths as we came in. The geezers with the blow-dried heads and ladies in...

Harry Taradash’s office door was ajar so I gave it the old courtesy knock and walked in. He was crouched over, feeding glossy photographs into the...

I would hear from Honey once a year when she came to New York to go shopping at Bergdorf’s and Saks and Barneys. She would insist on taking me to lunch at the

When she strode into the student cafeteria, eyes turned. Her clothes were stylishly elegant and expensive: odd for a college student, I thought. She was obviously attired to attract attention. And the fact that she was beautiful and statuesque helped to keep a spotlight on her.

The Elders assemble, Sorcerers, Witch Doctors, Brouhas, Midwives armed with machetes, scalpels, magnifying glass, tweezers.