Moving is hard for writers. I think it’s hard for everyone, of course, but being a writer and moving presents a unique set of problems that I’m not sure everyone else experiences, or at least experiences to the same extent. For example, for one who is keenly aware of the pattern of stories, it’s hardContinue reading “Movement”
Tag Archives: Short Story
Measurements of Time
We were driving down to Oregon a week before Christmas, each contemplating what the move would mean for us, when the radio died. We hadn’t been listening to the radio; we’d brought a book full of CDs to while away the hours, and we hadn’t really been listening to those either – but with theContinue reading “Measurements of Time”
Cyclical
When the atom bombs finally went off, mankind had the audacity to act surprised. There was mass panic and chaos all across the globe. Some people took to the streets, running as if they could actually escape the destruction. Others stared stupidly and uncomprehendingly at the sky, mouths hanging open like gaping craters that pittedContinue reading “Cyclical”
Play Date
Yancy climbed into the backseat of his car, slipping off his tattered vans before contorting himself through the gap of the two front seats and sliding in behind the steering wheel. Outside the snow continued to fall, but Yancy couldn’t see it from inside the cocooned vehicle. His breath appeared before him like trails of steam, and heContinue reading “Play Date”
Remembrance
Wavering strains of “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” reached Martha as she hurried across the back lawn. She stopped, turning to watch the funeral at the far end of the cemetery, the black lace which hung from her hat tickling her cheeks. It was a small ceremony, she thought, stroking the velvet top of the stovepipeContinue reading “Remembrance”