Still Life
Our son was born with dark, wet hair and a button nose. His eyes were closed, but the death certificate later said they were brown
Read MoreSous Sous
The Last Cut
Winter sunlight streamed in through the plate-glass windows at the front of the salon; it was early still, and Eric’s new client Cara—naturally chestnut, ivory skin—sat swathed in a black …
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Watching the Cop Show in Bed
Apparently, it’s very, very bad to let a well-dressed man into your home. An Oxbridge accent, coupled with the claim your husband’s hurt, and he’s from Scotland Yard: disaster! When …
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Ultrasound
On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 representing “of no interest to me” and 10 representing “of maximum interest to me,” the rapes in my neighbourhood rated a …
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Care and Feeding of the Amish
It took the class some doing to ambush, tackle, and finally capture the boy. They hid themselves on a stretch of the 62 just north of Ivanhoe and waited, giggling …
Read More Part of the Main
You might say that a clod washed away diminishes the whole, the contours of the land effaced by saintly patience of the tide, which knows that in time its tiny …
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Meet You at the Door
I had been typing since I was thirteen. On my mother’s L.C. Smith, my friend Howie and I made up our own Typing Olympics
Read MoreThe True Sorrows of Calamity Jane
The night Bill Hickok was shot in the back of the head at a Black Hills poker table by the coward Jack McCall, my mother indeed grabbed a meat cleaver …
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