Easter Morning
Easter morning and me and my father are down in the basement brushing shoes.
Easter morning and me and my father are down in the basement brushing shoes.
“Watercolors have a life and a flow of their own when you brush them on the paper. You let go and see what happens.”
A short story . . .
A short story . . .
“Aimee wants to be called Adam. Be sure to say Adam.”
A short story . . .
“Human enhancement technology,” he said.
A Short Story . . .
Ezekiel Evans looked out the front room window. A snow-buried Camry sat dormant under the streetlight. “Still there” Ezekiel said to the glass reflection of Tonya decorating the Christmas tree. He stood there another minute to reassure himself and then returned to his chair. “You never know what will happen next around this doggone place.…
What’s that you say? You’ve just arrived from Cyprus and you are new to the area? And, you’ve heard some incredible things? You want me to tell you all that’s happened? Come in for some water and …some bread.