With soft brown eyes, auburn hair braided to his waist, the classical guitarist smiles from the stage, his nimble fingers plucking taut strings. I imagine he is beaming at me, sending that I-see-you–invitation my way, the one that says, Meet me after the performance, let me play a special song for you. Without warning, I …
Category: Drive Through Window
Neverland
Let’s pretend, she said to her friend running down the hill in the opposite direction. Let’s pretend, she said to the sky, to the air, to the field around her. Arms held high, as if performing for God, she danced in a white long-sleeved blouse and a plaid skirt over black knee-highs. Blond hair blowing …
Risk
Like clothespins holding socks on a backyard line, or nylon knots between beads of a hand-made necklace, pigeons perch high above the city skyline. Each blue-black marker holds a space, as if hands took pains to order them, placed them with a precision that prevents pecks and squabbles. Is it instinct that positions pigeons so? …
Other Voices/Other Lives
Drive Through Window
Running on Empty
