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A fog from a fire and the fog of arrogance and the fog of incompetence and …
I love fog. I’ve got fog, but I don’t love this fog. This fog is the devil spawn of fire. Smoke, shoved west from its forest home by flames a-billion, then back east…
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Two Hawks Quarterly features my story “Loaded”
So happy and proud that the editing team at Two Hawks Quarterly found merit in my short story “Loaded,” and have included it in the spring 2020 edition. Check it out.
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The finest line
When is it abuse, and when is it guided introduction to the mysteries of life? When is it “criminal,” and when is it a rite of passage? There’s a fine line between the…
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Letter to my son and his lady friend after a long and late night with
Dear Max and Hannah (please share this with her; I don’t have her e-mail), We’re alive. Up, finally, and pouring coffee to the veins. Arrived home at 11:30, then decompressed with whiskey and…
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Exit signs
My dog and I were out in the circle early this morning, when my neighbor emerged from her house with her dog, Lucky. Jane had been laid off several months earlier from her…
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If you haven’t, by all means take time to read Alice Munro
I’m retired. Most of my time is mine to use as I wish. Odd, then, that I find (or carve out) so little uninterrupted time to just sit and read. I love to…