Jun 1, 2009 | Fiction |
Sadness and fear and hate, how they well up in the heart and mind, whenever one opens the pages of these messengers of doom. Cry for the broken tribe, for the law and the custom that is gone. Aye, and cry aloud for the man who is dead, for the woman and children...
Jan 5, 2009 | Fiction |
“Guns shooting at loaves of bread.” “Coyotes stumbling down an empty freeway. Eyes are milky.” “There’s too much sun. The sun shines whenever and wherever it likes. Night is old fashioned.” “Where is the correct...
Dec 20, 2006 | Fiction |
The trigger gave. I felt the underside of the polished butt and it was there, in that sharp but deafening noise, that it all started. I shook off the sweat and the sun. I realised that I’d destroyed the balance of the day and the perfect silence of this beach...
