[Fiction. Berthe Morisot's POV] The children play with the cat. I am anxious to get started. But the model has written to say that she cannot be here for another fortnight and I cannot say that I'm surprised, given the…

I speak in figures. The phrase is probably meant to address the report of an architect or a repairman or someone who measures your windows for drapes. Engineers, I would guess, although I have never been quite clear on what…

Her Face. Agatha looked in the mirror again and read her face. It was not the face of a child. It was not the face of the girl who had crossed the ocean and touched the waves with her hand…

Robert Redford died a couple days ago. I have been thinking about how he affected my life. He brought independent filmmaking out of the shadows into a world that grew more receptive because of his high opinion of it. The…

I've been thinking a lot about how things change. Nothing lasts forever, and that is nothing new. But what this means is that my current state of bliss, with the right community around me and the things I love to…

“When it came right down to it, I wanted courage.” Marianne lowered her eyes to her coffee cup, embarrassed at the admission. Leslie noted the gesture. “’Wanted.’ You mean as in ‘desired?’ Why are you embarrassed to say that?” “I’m…

[Fiction Fragment] The darkness isn't the worst part. Today is the anniversary. Two years since the Days of Half Light. Two years of thick clouds swaddling the planet. Not the cotton ball fluffy kind that only live in pictures. These…

The war ended on June 28, 1919. The Treaty of Versailles was signed in France’s Palace of Versailles, a perpetually cold place where Champagne froze in glasses as French nobles toasted to their health. Article 231 of the Treaty read:…

Before the ancient Hebrews could even start to schlepp those mighty tons of stone to their final destination - those monuments to a Pharaoh's hubris -they first had to make the stuff out of which those pitiless chunks of rock…

Hold a poem as you would hold a precious gem, delicately, so that your mind behaves like a group of agile fingers, enfolding, holding steady, securing yet allowing to run free the captive prisoner within…..embrace a poem, as you would…

How do we metabolize loss? Are we talking about the loss of a person? of a limb? of a job? of a cell phone? a house key? a knit beanie? And who is the “we” here? We human beings? We…