Volume 3 Number 2
You worked in the library with dreamy books. It was time for an adventure: I hid a gun inside the hollowed-out copy of Moby Dick.
Pretty eyes and smart. Such a funny girl, he thought. Especially when she held the knife against his throat. He could hardly wait until Thursday.
When Mr. Hawk died, he discovered something. Heaven was like being the library forever. Hell was like being in the library forever. Only one of…
Mary Seventeen Spring went missing. We grew impatient with inconclusive reports, our own lives like footprints in deep soil. Dried mud covered our hands. In…
In the fifth floor office, your father the diamond-dealer placed three diamonds along the crease between my middle and ring: marquis, sweet- heart, oval. He…
The old hag fed me with a spoon: one lump of gray porridge after another, lifeless and bland like an old washrag. Her wrinkled face…
You taught me to move fast, duck and dodge, fist to face, shoulders squared. We spent two summers play fighting and smoking. I’d curl like…
I was searching for a leprechaun and found one. It was a she who didn’t play by the usual rules, freely revealing the location of…
I had offered the house to a community theatre group for a rehearsal. I watched them rehearse one long scene and then, though it had…
Sherman’s first name was Tecumseh, really, after the Shawnee chief, but a priest tacked on William, after the Saint of Vercelli, on account of him…