
The decor choices of Sam’s Other Self were incomprehensible to her. The kitchen looked like it had been scrubbed clean by a loving hand. A tiered basket laden with potatoes and shallots hung from the ceiling, while fresh fruit sat …
The decor choices of Sam’s Other Self were incomprehensible to her. The kitchen looked like it had been scrubbed clean by a loving hand. A tiered basket laden with potatoes and shallots hung from the ceiling, while fresh fruit sat …
The dog stands in the front yard, his white fur turning red and yellow in the August sun. He moved into the house last month. In our one conversation, he’d explained he was the first member of his family to …
Dick and Jane? I never knew them. When I was learning to read at Public School 102 in Queens, our books were all about Jim and Judy. I liked living in their world and for years I remembered them with …
Conjoined twins surprise rattlesnake in mailbox: once bitten, twice died.
Alan Silver is the author of How to Win Grants (Allworth Press, 2012).…
Before my shovel’s blade descends, it scrapes away a two-foot-square surface of interwoven twigs that snap as they break apart; the dried, burnt-red leaves crumble into almost unrecognizable pieces; and the smashed acorns, that have lost their caps, roll farther …
Ralph is picking fruit flies from his wine, the red one that tastes like cupcakes. His weird long pinky nail is a scoop. At least they died happy, he says. We are in that space we love to be together, …
Larry, the color commentator and former All-American, says, “Bob, my man, how do you think the Cats look going into first game of the Sweet Sixteen?”
Bob spots a light flashing at the bottom of his screen where everything he …
A normal day in my life since I chose to be a stay-at-home mom to my two boys aged ten and twelve is quite an exhausting one, despite schools remaining closed due to pandemic. I don’t have to wake up …
I am more careful than you can imagine. If someone rings the doorbell, I approach the door in mask and gloves. I wash my hands so frequently that the skin at my knuckles looks like parched mud, and I never …