The Sea
My father worked in Ballymore and came down in the evenings on the train, in a wordless fury,...
Category: Truth & Lies
Four Thousand Weeks
When you finally face the truth that you can’t dictate how fast things go, you stop trying to...
The Argonauts
Before we met, I had spent a lifetime devoted to Wittgenstein’s idea that the inexpressible is...
Journey To The End Of The Night
While we kept Robinson’s eyes bandaged, he told me about his beginnings in life. When he was...
Go, Went, Gone
Before Richard moved to the outskirts with his wife, they’d lived in an apartment, a mere two...
The Machine Stops
They were not fighting now. Only the whispers remained, and the little whimpering groans. They...
The Asra
Every day so lovely, shining,up and down, the Sultan’s daughterwalked at evening by the...
Journey To The End Of The Night
The sky in Rancy is the same as in Detroit, a smoky soup that bathes the plain all the way to...
The Machine Stops
“And even the lecturers acquiesced when they found that a lecture on the sea was none the less...
Our Strangers
On Sufferance The cat says, “I’m only here on sufferance.” The dog doesn’t...
To Those Who Follow in Our Wake
I. Truly, I live in dark times! An artless word is foolish. A smooth forehead Points to...
What Kind of Times Are These?
There’s a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill and the old...
