An Anniversary
Before I pull off the four-lane highway, I make sure the shoulder is wide. Amish families live in the area. They drive their buggies along this road, and yet, despite the paved shoulder, I pick a spot where an open field seems level enough to take my right-side tires as insurance. When I open the door, there is plenty of ... Read More
Manon, Christophe, and the Sea
Whenever Manon awoke from dreams in which she still played for lāOrchĆØstre Symphonique de MontrĆ©al, the feel of the cello lingered between her knees, and the whitecaps of her lifeāthe echoing arcs of before, during, and after the accidentācame crashing in her thoughts once more. The instrument remained with her throughout the day like a phantom limb. It was still ... Read More
I mention the deerĀ
I preferred my friendās father. Mine sat silent in cigar smoke, suave in a cheap suit. Hers, a suburban cowboy, weather-worn in plaid flannel, loud with love. āAw, girl,ā heād say when I visited, patting my cheek, āyouāre so darn cute.ā On warm evenings, heād walk with my friend, head bent to listen, one hand holding their muttās leash, the ... Read More
THE ODDSĀ
for Arnold Gold, 1922-98 I am certain that if I heckled you long enough, chuckling sarcastically, supplying a few particulars, you would eventually recall those final games of one-on-one, the two of us alone in that schoolyard in Rego Park. You brought your A game that day, the lickety-split moves in the paint, the soft touch, playing better than Iād ... Read More
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