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Trunks of plane trees with parchment bark, their shaggy pillars bear a canopy of green like a great tent spread over the square of the park. Cool misting lawn sprinklers, their umbral spay--brick walks glisten in the mottled light. Fading blooms of rhodo
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He turned the pages for me, reverently, slowly--pointing out other birds, repeating their names, sounds strange and mysterious to my ears, went on, bird after bird, and when I reached my stop and rose to leave, he was still whispering their names like a c
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Any visitor to Philadelphia ends up, inevitably, in Rittenhouse Square, right in the heart of the city—as William Penn himself intended, in his original design. These days, trendy outdoor cafes line the Square on Eighteenth Street; and in the current fashion, have…
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"A little knowledge truly is a dangerous thing."
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Or at least that is the way Dad explained it one night after finishing the Emergency Vodka he hid behind the ice trays on his last night in the old apartment in Providence.
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She felt like every cell in her body was vomiting, like everyone in the coffee shop was talking about what a failure she had become, like her lungs were filled with charcoal dust and blood.
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Snow was melting in buckets and rivulets carried water over winter-beaten brick, concrete, and asphalt. Walking down the glistening sidewalk with his girl next to him, Alex felt as if he had emerged into a world flushed by some momentous change: a victory
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Mom was standing under the small archway between the kitchen and the living room, holding a mug of coffee in her hand. Since the chemo, her skin seemed to have evaporated, the blue and green of her veins were vivid through the cellophane of her skin.
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Min’s skin was still so hot, goose-bumpled and engorged with blood, and as sensitive to touch as the tip of her tongue
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She silently brought her awareness into her feet to stay grounded in her body in case of the worst and pushed through the door. Vostok’s was blessedly Liam-less.
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"You seem like a very nice avocado, but I really don’t think I am supposed to mate with you.”
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No, not forgiveness. Forgiveness just seemed irrelevant.
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What the hell am I thinking, bud,
At a late time like this, doing my laundry at 2 a.m. because we
Talked on the phone too long? Underwear has a way of keeping things real.
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Danny handed Annie the picture, with a gloved hand she held it up close, studied the face, then read the address to herself.
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In the summer of 1963 I went to Philadelphia to study with a member of the Philadelphia Orchestra.
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