An Inch of Life
Markus stood by the closed gate. The airport had been busy that day. He had arrived in plenty of time, gone to the lounge, read the paper.
Writer’s Choice
His Beautiful Death
“Am I dying, Mir?” he asks me, as we lie together in the narrow hospital bed, holding hands in the darkness. I sit up and turn to him. “Yes,” I say simply, “You are, Bri.”
Exploring Canyons
The gully behind my aunt and uncle’s new house intrigued me. It was deep and wild, and resembled a small canyon, with lots of wooded areas for city children…
ITCH
I stopped ignoring him on a frozen February morning. It was the kind of Monday I pictured postal carriers calling in sick. Five seconds out the front door of my apartment…
Thank God Things are Quiet
Thank God things are quiet. I guess it’s medication time everywhere in the hospital, the same way it can be Christmas everywhere in the world.
The Hardest Question for a Writer
…attempting to find the answer to “what do you write about” is quite possibly the most frustrating pursuit for me. I sometimes see other writers replying to this…
Modern Medical Miracles
Our emotions are raw Kept tightly wrapped We talk of friends, the weather Never, what if………… Waiting this time is like watching for a birth
Sibling Madness
It was unusual for Aaron to call so I always answered the phone when he did. These conversations were cerebral and sometimes hard to follow…
Florence, By Any Other Name
My Gran was born Florence –Imagine a baby in the 1920s With such a serious name–Burdensome, so she went by another But we never forget…