Family
On the terrace where the parents drink margaritas there’s a tiny radio. The sound is quiet against the sea noises taking up all the rest…
The maze of yellow tape: Caution. Caution. Keep out. Posted on the door: Unsafe. Underneath, the paint blistered, rough to touch. He should be in…
In the kitchen Lloyd is wringing its neck like a wet washcloth. Seconds ago, the cat was smug. It hooked the bacon frying on the…
It’s October 31, 1976, in Anchorage, Alaska. This is the ten-year old boy’s second day in America. He squats at a vent producing warm air….
William Charles: Owner of the town’s boot factory. Beatrice Charles: His wife. The brains of the operation. Alphonse Charles: Eldest Charles child, prone to fits…
Gabe stood outside his father’s bedroom window with the grasshopper’s wings pinched tightly between his fingers. The insect was slightly longer than one of the…
I sat in cool bathwater listening as outside my mother and father tore out my lush green plants like weeds—roots clinging to the soil I’d…
Cousin Charlie and I were born twelve years apart, he in 1954 in New York and I in 1966 in California. The last time we’d…
My mother and I live alone. What I mean by this statement is that my mother lives alone and I live alone. Not that it…
In accordance with village tradition Hiver was born Hovik but changed his name the winter of his mother’s death. Hiver, when he was Hovik, had…