I always hated short stories. I considered reading a short story like going out to dinner and only ordering an appetizer. Want a real meal? Eat a goddamn novel. – Jacob Tomsky I came to the short story late. It wasn’t til this year, 2013, at the age of 38, that I finally began to … Continue reading Fiction, tapas-style
“In the morning I walked down the Boulevard to the rue Soufflot for coffee and brioche. It was a fine morning. The horse-chestnut trees in the Luxembourg gardens were in bloom. There was the pleasant early-morning feeling of a hot day. I read the papers with the coffee and then smoked a cigarette. The flower-women … Continue reading Dystopia – to go or not to go?
Today I braided our daughter’s hair. She is growing her bangs out, and they are at that stage where they are too long to leave hanging but still to short to tuck behind her ear. I attempted a French braid on one side to tidy the scraggly strands, and with her hair pulled back, her … Continue reading Vignettes from a white sand beach
I selfishly gave The Old Man and the Sea to our nine year old son for his birthday, with the inscription, “Happy Birthday! Ernest Hemingway is one of my favorite authors. I hope you have a wonderful birthday. Love, Mom 2012.” Even now, when I read what I wrote, I expect it to say what … Continue reading Reading Hemingway with our son