Faith, Fiction, Friends

Rose petals fall among tumbleweeds of dust blowing into crevices, splitting my imagination. I saw fire on the lake flaring, ...

It’s been a while since I did one of these, so I thought I see what pleasant disturbances are in the environment at the moment. Firs...

Nicholson Baker’s The Anthologist is one crazy read. It’s a novel. I think. It’s about poetry. I think. I know it’s about fo...

I sit by the kitchen window reading Seamus Heaney aloud and I almost miss the hummingbird sipping the red and blue salvia, clearl...

A.S. Byatt published The Matisse Stories in 1993. Reading the work in 2012, I find it’s aged well. It’s a small volume, only three st...

They sat upstairs at the movies, we sat down. They sat at the back of the bus, we at the front. At the A&P they had their ...

We step down from the Thalys at Gare du Nord, to find armed soldiers dividing around us, seeking prison escapees, or terrori...