No…..there is never enough love, at least genuine non judgmental love felt and expressed in any constructive way…...because people are constantly substituting love for lust,…

It was Agatha's favorite time of day, dusk. After her teaching duties, she stealed away to the docks. While mutti cared for John. She stayed…

There's a ghost on the other end of the line. I can hear her breathing. I heard her words a few days ago. They were…

Agatha had hidden in her father's I house for weeks after his death. Her life had become a series of breathes. In, out, each a…

At the dinner party she was seated next to a very attractive woman in her late twenties, a red head who introduced herself to Izzy…

Since New Year's Day, I have worked every day because the world premiere of THE DREAMERS AND I, a film I worked on, was in…

Years ago, late at night in her Chicago hospital bed, after some struggles, some dementia-fueled trips to an Old Russia she never visited, Momma died.…

I stood on the side of the road, bags stacked next to me, coat plastered to my shivering form. The taxi pulled away, job done…

The knoc on the door continued, it's softer at first.Then louder.Agatha shook her head to clear it, her coughing was getting worse and with the…

Every season has its smell, its olfactory power, so that when you recall it, senses wake up: the taste of fresh baked sugar cookies mixed…

Barbara sat slumped on the edge of a bed. The dim bulb overhead struggled to fill the dingy motel room with light. Details were hard…

At 18, Agatha was a wife. At 22, she was a widow. The stabbing pain of that loss engulfed her. It was her mother who…