As a child, the only wine we had in the house was a steady supply of Mogan David Concord Grape wine. Sweet, sticky stuff we consumed in our family's home Sabbath services held every Friday evening. Other than that, my…
View writingAgatha had a choice: she could stay or she could run. If she went back to Germany, She could possibly save her family. She could get them out. She could bring them to America. Agatha paused, she was a half-Jewess.…
View writingMy father wanted to be a commercial pilot, but since my mother refused to live a life where her husband's work took him away all the time, he settled on being a private pilot. He co-founded a flying club with…
View writingAt a certain point in my life I wanted to be famous. I wanted to be known for my work as an actress, which I took very seriously, but I also wanted to be famous. I think I equated fame…
View writingIf we were meant to fly, God would have given us wings . Not airline manufactured wings made of heavy steel and impossibly heavy chances to crash and burn...airplanes are unnatural....and because they are unnatural , they will continue to…
View writingVanessa could hardly bear to look at her mother, so withered her form hardly registered under the taut lines of the bedspread falling on either side of the hospital bed. Here lay a woman who towered in Vanessa’s imagination long…
View writingDon took the large trimmers from Kevin after sterilizing and cleaning them on the work bench. These were the ones with 30" orange handles, used to prune off the thicker canes of an inch or more thickness. He turned and…
View writingI stood on the side of the road, bags stacked next to me, coat plastered to my shivering form. The taxi pulled away, job done now that I had been safely deposited. I turned my head to stare at the…
View writingThe ocean landing was rough. Agatha kept sturdy, calm as the waves lapse on the bow of the boat. She was almost sick, but not quite. Andres appeared green, but he composed himself. She saw his thoughts on his face.…
View writingI was writing a story a while back about a woman, in her thirties, who sort of fakes her own death. She is driving her mother-in-law’s borrowed mini-van in a rainstorm when she tries to cut over to escape a…
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