There are not so many people about that it would not have been unlikely that the first falling manhole cover would have gone unnoticed, have been utterly unremarked — driving to earth in a farmer’s field, or in a continental …
“Hey, you! You! You guy!”
I turn and look. It’s an old Japanese woman. She’s waving at me from her doorway. She has the look. Instant crazy. Pink bathrobe. Hair curlers. Reading glasses half the size of her head.
“Yeah?” …
“I don’t want to die up here. God please help me. Help me!”
David pushed his back against the hard rock. He was perched on a rough narrow ledge on the face of Mount Kilmer. He pressed himself to the …
Uncle Bill was among the men huddled in the garage, clustered in the corner behind the jig saw and planer table. I stared at them through the kitchen’s rusty screen door but all I could see were the ember tips of …
We got to Ipswich by market day somehow, a small miracle given the state of our cart, which was always just a crooked cobblestone from ruin. There had been no robbers on the road down either, luck be praised. Though, …
Rob peered out from behind the Sunday sports section. Across the room he observed his wife Shelia, doing some sort of handwork with tiny needles. Crocheting, maybe? He didn’t know. Had no clue. Didn’t care. She was dressed in a …
A solid-bodied woman, well past youth, struggles along a late night street of Cheyenne, Wyoming, U.S.A with two boys in tow, who might be three and six years old. She lugs a large, well-worn suitcase; manifestly heavy, tied and cross-tied with …
Gods, he hated the sewers.
Not because of the stench or the pile of shit laid on the side. It was actually a convenient way to get around unseen by human eyes.
He would have liked it, if it wasn’t …
From either side of the gym, shimmering blue stars hung between boy-girl exclusive crowds of junior-high-schoolers. JoAnne’s son Russ looked adorably ridiculous with his gingery hair gelled into spikes. Always the class clown, Russ insisted on an oversized smiley-face pin …
“We found blue harem pants!” my best friend, Lizzy’s, voice shouts at me through my phone. “It’s totally a sign, you have to be Princess Jasmine this year.”
“Slow down, Lizzy,” I say, sleepily. “I was napping, I need a …