Fiction

1989     Wild turkeys, dull brown and nondescript except for their bizarre prehistoric configuration, strange bulk, unexpected arrival, walk presumptuously up the long driveway toward the house. The sun is trying its best to warm the...

    The words came out of my mouth exactly the way my older and only brother, Jim, had enthusiastically demonstrated.     “Shut it, fat boy!” I firmly said.

    “If we miss the boat, goddammit, it’s your fault,” warned Dad as he floored the pedal of his prized ’55 Buick convertible to 70 in the slow zone known as a speed trap. It was the final stretch of the race...

When the colors turn how we love to watch your Redbirds take flight your Red Sox gallivant but one could only find but one African-American sprinting on your green grass sitting on your wooden bench is that not a black eye on your...

    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.