The rooms have grown darker since Laura died. Today even the kitchen is charcoal grey. It is not my imagination. I have not succumbed to metaphors. I have seen it happen day by day. And today is the seventh day. …
Archive | Issue-79
In a Farmhouse, Next to a River
Posted on 05 October 2008.
He wakes up with his hand clasping a red silk ribbon, the kind you would find holding back the hair of a small girl. His hair is wet. He wakes up next to the river with a pocket full of …
Posted in Issue-790 Comments
Picnic
Posted on 05 October 2008.
Do you remember that picnic we attempted? It was a Saturday in late May and we took the car thinking at some convenient spot we would be able to pull off the road, unfurl our blanket, and have leisurely salmon …
Posted in Issue-790 Comments
The Uninvited
Posted on 05 October 2008.
“As usual Milo, when my guest arrives, I will expect you to remain in your room,” said Jennifer. “I’m making some dinner you can have in there.”
Milo pushed himself up from his wheelchair to see spaghetti hoops bubbling in …
Posted in Issue-790 Comments
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