Category: Original Fiction
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The Man Who Walked Past Twice
The lights above the bar flickered. The music — an old Bing Crosby tune — hiccuped, warped, then steadied.
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The Carol of the Glass Bird
An elderly man stood behind the counter — or perhaps not a man; his features were fine, too pale, and his eyes too bright for the dusk.
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Lillian & Sylvia Discuss Cherry…
“To Cherry,” she said. “A woman standin’ on the threshold of who she was — and who she’ll become next.”
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The Light Beneath the Hill
You listened — not skeptically, not eagerly, but with that quiet understanding that makes both reason and wonder feel safe.
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The House That Remembered
Lillian found the courage to speak once we were back in the car. “I don’t suppose you took the photograph.” “No,” I said. “But it won’t be there if we go back.”
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When the Painting Breathed: A Visit to the Museum der Bildenden Kunst
It strikes me now that Love Magic was never meant to be merely observed. Its power lies in making the viewer complicit — in collapsing the distance between scholarship and participation.
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The Lights Beneath the Pavilion
Lillian looked at me. I could see the words in her eyes: Sylvia, what have you done?
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A Study in Flesh and Spirit
“Friday,” she said. Her accent was old, vowels elongated, consonants softened. “It is still Friday?”
