What can YOU say in six sentences?
I started to write about a childhood memory that involved large Russian uncles in heavy overcoats and plump Romanian aunties bent over stoves as they baked bread and Purim pastries, but who can stand to write such stories in 104-degree heat?
I tried to write about my first orgasm and other nervous truths, but those prickly feelings melted and ran…Continue
Late that evening, I found him at the kitchen table, a glass of Jim Beam poured, the dishes pushed to the side in a jumbled pile. A single burner on the stove glowed red, but no pot or pan sat on it.
"Kyle?" I asked, turning off the stove and pulling out a chair for myself, taking inventory of the knives close at hand, but not sure why.
He was deep in concentration, eyes focused on a point of great importance, a gaze I would imagine a sailor holds as he steers towards shore but…Continue
They drove from Hayneville to Montgomery, to the Olive Garden, where Stump ordered the fried appetizer trio and Char had the braised beef and tortelloni in mushroom-marsala wine sauce, and they talked between bites in a desultory way. She noticed that, after 25 years, she still found him attractive -- his hairline was holding steady, his eyes still twinkled. He noticed that after 25 years, despite a certain roundness at the jawline, she still had that megawatt smile and an animated way of…Continue
You might have read about her in the papers or heard it on the evening news. We weren't surprised, of course, not after years of blackouts and strange late night phone calls.
John coined a name for the long incoherent rants and accusations she posted on line while
She blamed her situation on everyone around her and everyone who'd ever done her wrong, from a Daddy who ditched his wife…Continue
In this lab, where I work 40 hours a week, live the ghosts of questions asked.
They hover over the outdated map of Asia on which the USSR is still plump with member countries, even the coldly-named Estonia.
The questions grow more urgent above the world globes on which the peeling edges of Africa curl upward like grasses where birds nest and cry, "slavery, slaver-eee."…
What should I do about these feelings that make me want to reach across the miles, whole states even, rip out his liver and feed it to him with fava beans?
Abby, it would be wrong to commit mayhem on another human being, mainly because I'd get caught and put away in the Julia Tutwiler Prison for Women, an awful place that smells like the walls were painted with boiled cabbage.
This man, Abby, is so undeserving of my beautiful, smart, accomplished friend.
Part of my rage…
My grandmother had the soul of a look-out wasp, the sentry that first notices anything or anyone who comes too close to the nest. It releases pheremones or gestures to announce "danger" to the rest of the wasps, causing them to swarm to the source of the alarm -- human, dog, cat -- and commence to sting unquestioningly.
In our family, it took but one soft whisper from Grandmother and all the cousins, nephews and sisters…Continue
Bootsy Sykes broke the speed record for a male over 30 between the front door of the Seven & Seven and a barstool, which told Clorine, the day bartender, she better set him up with a shot glass and a bottle of Early Times.
"It's Axel, my number 2 dog," Bootsy said three gulps later, "and the vet says it'll cost $2,500 to put him right."
Clorine and the other patrons kept a respectful silence, knowing exactly the intense bond between a man and a dog. Then, "Ain't that the…Continue