With each passing day a bit of hope sloughed off, until I was left with nothing but a chunk of small memories, of Dad’s giant oaky hands tossing me in the air, never once afraid to see me fall.

One of the runners was collecting bags of dead animals to bring back to the van. Nicholas looked inside one of the bags, but all he saw was a stringy mess of fur and tissue. The runner grabbed the bag from Nicholas. He shrugged and said "hammers.

A surreal conversation in a library hints at something else.

I’ve forgiven my mother; she didn’t know what she was doing. She heard voices, had visions. She imagined herself to be a prophet named Helen when her real name was Marge. When she learned she was pregnant with me she scored some Thalidomide from my gr

A cruel panther gets its prey.

On the first day of my diet, I only cheated once. But I sort of made up for it by taking the stairs at work and parking far away from the entrance to J.C. Penney. I went to the mall to look at the sexy outfits I would buy as soon as I could get rid of

And as he looked at the departing pink cushion in his rear-view mirror (shaped like a canoe without the paddles), the latest big question popped into his mind like a hot slice of buttered brown bread from his shiny, metallic stainless steel toaster –

They would ride with a mechanic synchronicity, like schools of robotic fish, and appear and disappear suddenly, never still, never trapped in traffic snarls, always finding a way through the gridlocks and the side streets.