Category Archives: fiction

There is always something more to lose. Always. So now I wake with the light of a tired winter sun through my torn curtains, and my lips curve into a smile of infinite relief. I laugh, and while my voice … Continue reading →

The chime that marks the lateness of the hour is also the sound of a coffin lid closing. It brings to mind the smell of fresh turned earth and old flowers. It’s all made up of pine splinters and junk … Continue reading →

“Wakey Wakey, Ebenezer! Don’t you want to see what I’ve brought you?” Whatever it is, it is warm. It makes the room around me feel smaller, closer. “Come on now, Ebbie, doesn’t it smell delicious, after all of that gruel … Continue reading →

There’s a certain sound the rain makes on the roof during that first heavy storm of spring. It’s a seductive rhythm that lulls one’s mind into a state of peaceful receptivity, hypnotic in its not-quite-irregularity. One is always listening for … Continue reading →

“What is it?” You ask me this as if the question were reasonable.  I do not have an answer. After a lifetime of fighting it, I am certain only of what it is not. I know it by the smoke-drawn … Continue reading →

I had spent a long, long life fighting it. I gave all I had to the battle — my family, my friends, my work, my health.  The fight was everything to me and took everything from me, and I thought … Continue reading →

Charles Dickens, as you may or may not have known, made his career as a novelist by writing serials — that is, much of his better fiction was initially published in serial parts in periodicals rather than first as a … Continue reading →