Molly

I remember summers of paper cartons.

Two of them could hold enough apples to make a pie, but sometimes the peaches came…

The Diamond

Spring left behind a docile rain. Umbrellas cut through it, fewer than when the rain poured torrential; it refreshed more than it soaked…

Chicken

His nose was bleeding. Looked like it had been for a while. There was blood all over his hands and shirt and his teeth were pink with it when he…

Against the Wind

On a craggy island in the Mediterranean with shaggy grass and poor soil there was a tree that defied odds. Rooted in soil too…

Trouble with Bears

It was Saturday afternoon and Shay was still at the breakfast table when she heard something scratching at the back door. She…

Winter in War

He threw the instrument down on the cement floor. All the music had been wrung out of it, the guitar’s neck and body split and…

New Story on Saturday Evening Post

My new story, “A Wandering” was featured on Saturday Evening Post’s Fiction Friday.

The Box and the Canvas

A sunset night on fire, the notes of a ballad. Already a memory before they happen. Instant isn’t fast enough, nor…

A Fog and Paper Sky

After dark the twisting lights had died and fog had risen, a shroud across the street market. Throngs of daytime vendors and…

The Rail Yard

The rail yard was not a safe place for kids, but try telling that to the kids. The moment something is off limits, there they are, riding their bikes around and competing to see who can throw glass bottles the highest. Where the train cars were parked in chains they hid baubles and notes, poked through…