July 1, 2007 | Fiction
Kitty peeled dead flies off the screen. She squinted in the direction of the boatyard. "No boats today," she muttered to herself.
A late season heat wave had brought a constant haze that made
June 1, 2007 | Nonfiction
It is 1:38 pm the day after the event and the best way I can think of to describe the way I feel is: food hangover. I'm dressed in the loosest clothing I own with a throbbing, deep-seated headache
1. When I was sixteen I wrote a poem that started: As the years press down, I will remember you.
2. I have no idea who I was talking about when I wrote that.
3. Which means, I guess, that I