July 2, 2009 Lithe and blonde and a hundred pounds, she sinks her toes into the smooth, silver stones. I watch her. Slipping on her big brown sunglasses, which remind me of fly’s eyes, she sits down next to me … Read More
I think I might love you. Sorry. I didn’t think so until last week. It was Friday. I was driving up I-87. I hadn’t thought of you all day, all week. The trees lining the highway had lost their leaves … Read More
Billy was a boy who had liked my sister the summer she graduated from high school. He took her to eat ice cream and see movies about dolphins which she described as “fascinating.” Katy stopped caring about things after she … Read More
Before the war, I often perched on the fence of the cow pasture to watch the trains go by. That was well before I was unable to stand the sound of trains. I had nothing else to do besides throwing rocks in the muddled Risle and memorizing geometry and morality lessons until everything mingled irremediably in my head. My only friend was Adam, though sometimes his cousin Anne, who was a year younger than we were—but just as sharp if not more—would tag along with us when we went down by the outskirts of town to smoke cigarettes and kick a ball back and forth.