The Trail
October 24, 2018[…] before the sun broke the horizon. The trail was pressed into the earth like lines in a human palm. Creases formed by the clench of an infant’s fist, by the wires of ancestral weight, […]
[…] before the sun broke the horizon. The trail was pressed into the earth like lines in a human palm. Creases formed by the clench of an infant’s fist, by the wires of ancestral weight, […]
[…] of rewarding him for eighteen “beardless” months of sacrificial service, mostly on her behalf. For her “stuck -in–the–sixties” former “Jack Mormon” husband, it hadn’t been easy. Fidgeting beside her, he also knew she’d be […]
[…] farm house had been preserved as a curiosity but the actual place that changed the course of human history was elided—no nod at all to the event that precipitated the entire Restoration. After the […]
[…] twenty minutes for the next bus. “Dear Heavenly Father,” I prayed, “please help the bus be on time.” Stop it. The bus was either about to come or it wasn’t. Even if there were […]
[…] danger is not the fox without but the fox within. I can build the warrens deep enough, design the entrances narrow enough, construct the passages as maze enough to confuse and discourage the fox […]
[…] in the bathroom down the hall, would hear. It was Saturday and he’d just finished his mid -morning shower. In their twenty–nine years of marriage he’d rarely showered, let alone shaved, on Saturday morning. […]
[…] unpleasant, almost repulsive. She thought of her grandmother lying across the bed, beached like a piece of human driftwood. A moan filtered down the hallway. “I’m coming, Gran,” said Sarah, throwing the door shut. […]
[…] noise that might emerge from someone deaf from birth who had never heard the texture of a human voice nor been trained to imitate it. Mama and Aunt Margaret bent over Jen, no longer […]
[…] in her seat. He had fallen asleep during the movie, and she, it was clear, had turned off his headset, and the overhead lights, and left him to it. The champagne had done—no, was […]
[…] he hikes in thongs. “I can’t figure that guy out,” Marie says. “Sometimes he acts like we’re human beings, and sometimes he acts like we’re toads.” She slides onto a broad, hot rock. “Elaine?” […]