Because I dream of flying, I ask my father for wings. He believes only sons should fly above the earth. At first, I turn angry at this lack of value awarded to daughters. Don’t I deserve the same rights as my three brothers? When offered wings, my smartest brother refuses them. He says, “Had we... Continue Reading →
It’s usually a three-hour drive back home from Chapel Hill, but today it feels even longer. Bright rays of morning sun beam through my car door window, the heat warm on my face despite the cold November weather outside. I try to focus on the road, on the radio, on the billboards lining the highway.... Continue Reading →
It seems that every old guy still owns a guitar. In TV ads and influencer blog spots for everything from beard-dying to boner pills—there’s the guitar, on its stand or hanging against a wall like a piece of memorial art. I don’t know how many of those venerable axes ever get played. Very few, I... Continue Reading →
Back in 1977, in my mid-twenties, I wrote a story called “A Caring Man.” I was attending the Iowa Writers Workshop in Iowa City at the time as well as living and working with my wife Jeri at a nearby Quaker boarding school. That summer we were deep in drought. Even though the well at... Continue Reading →
I grew roots. She grew wings. My ground and her skies moved in paces that could only coexist for a short time. It was inevitable that we would part. It was as amicable a split as there could ever be. We were both too aware of each other’s truths to know it could be any... Continue Reading →
Omaha, Nebraska May 7, 1962 Margaret Meyer noticed the sign Monday morning as she approached the entrance of Cafe Sásta. It was printed neatly in black marker on a sheet of typing paper, taped to the plate glass window. UPSTAIRS APARTMENT FOR RENT. INQUIRE INSIDE. Over the last year, she’d visited the cafe several mornings... Continue Reading →
Polly Smithton had two faces. Or maybe she had one face that was split down the middle. It was hard to know, really. But she was called Polly Two-Face, so there’s that anyway. Polly had a real wide forehead, with two widow’s peaks. One of her eyes was blue, and it was way far over... Continue Reading →
Nathan House had been something of an athlete in his youth. He wasn’t blessed with an abundance of natural gifts, but anyone who competed with or against him back then would nod and acknowledge, “He does okay,” a reasonably strong endorsement in northern New England. But Nathan never expected that his quest to remain an... Continue Reading →
Anna perched on the rickety farmhouse porch, her gaze fixed on the dark horizon, and wondered how she had become this person. Trapped and cowered by his anger and moods – she prayed for relief but knew only constant fear and dread. She watched the afternoon sun fall lower in the sky as the bank... Continue Reading →
That summer, I found four-leaf clovers everywhere. When I was out on a run, something would catch my eye—symmetry or perhaps the lack of it. Bending down, searching the grasses, more often than not, I found what I was looking for. I took it as a sign that good luck was headed my way. Even... Continue Reading →
