So I go out to breakfast today. I ordered two braised eggs – don’t ask – with sourdough toast and coffee. And I’m sitting there putting ketchup on my eggs when three young girls walk in. The girls These girls are actually young ladies – but girls are girls to an older guy like me. Anyway, they are… Read More »
The first thing I notice is the smoke, the smell of it. An acrid, cloying stink overwhelms my senses and crawls over and into me like a billion ethereal tendrils. The fear grows inside. It is a grotesque unyielding fear. It saturates me and makes it nearly impossible to open my eyes, my eyelids are heavy with terror.… Read More »
The sound of rain falling, cascading down the eaves, rushing to be free: This is the perfect soundtrack for a pensive day. Sometimes I feel so sad and lost, but I realized today, I cannot even manage to summon up a single tear. I think I have cried all the tears allotted to me in this lifetime. I… Read More »
—Chapter Four— It was a bright, crisp, nearly cloudless October day, there were just a few wispy puffs of white dotting the brilliant blue of the sky. it was the picture perfect autumn day — the kind pf which calendars are made. And there was more than a gentle breeze blowing from the south, and it was stirring… Read More »
She was the lighthouse keeper’s granddaughter. She had inherited the tiny island, the small clapboard house, as well as lighthouse, when he died suddenly, and without warning the day before Christmas, seven years ago. The lighthouse had stood beautifully useless for more than twenty years, a beacon to all those whose yearnings draw them back to simpler times.… Read More »
Chapter One The cool fingers of autumn streaked the bright blue October sky with swirls of white and gray – wispy peaks and valleys drawn across the sky as if by some giant hand. The old lighthouse, long abandoned, stood like a pillared-sentry, blindly guarding the rocky shoal, five hundred yards off the island cliff; still the lighthouse… Read More »