fiction

    “They told me I’d be dead in a year and here I am drinking your ice cold beer.” He laughed, drained the glass, and ordered a second. “What do you make of that, Jack? That is your name, isn’t it?...

Some days I plod a measured mile Of graying asphalt road To keep old arteries from closing Or force new ones open. I’d rather not look ahead To still distant markers But at the dirty white sideline, Worn down to randomly regular...

Part Two

    “I started another novel in the country, by the aging pool with its shimmering poplars. The pool chair was so old that the fabric had ripped from the frame. Anyone who sat back in it literally caved in. The sky had clouded...

    Farmer Tod and his wife, Nora, lived in a cottage in the hills of Kerry. One day Tod peeked out the cottage window. He saw Nora sweeping outside with her broom made of straw. Sure, she would be busy as a hen picking up bugs, he...

    There is no choice, never was any choice. My stomach is churning. My heart is pounding, leaping out of my chest. My head is swimming with wild, nameless terror. “Save it” — the words are screaming in my ears...

    When my friend Matthew came to visit and went to use the bathroom, he came out and said, “Wow, I never peed in front of Marilyn Monroe before.” He was referring to the poster made up of 36 photos of her that hangs over...

    Nostalgia-driven groups on Facebook are common. The one I joined has 5,000 members. We’re mostly boomers and our posts start with the phrase:     “You know you’re from Massapequa if. . . ....

    She was only interested in getting there. Getting there fast and first. No stopping, no pausing at every pole and post for Boo, as she was affectionately and lovingly known by her family.     She wanted no...