Some women lose their cool when they miss a 50 percent-off sale at Sak’s. Others have a hissy fit on a bad hair day. Me, I get pissed (or piqued for those delicate souls) whenever I can’t hear the rest of an interesting conversation. I don’t mean...
Dr. Louise Fuller exits her house on Bristol Way promptly at three, the bells of St. Michael’s tolling the hour as she makes a right at the corner and strides down the sidewalk. It will take her exactly fifteen and one-half minutes to walk to Stanley Hall, wherein are...
Words falling, dropping against the floor in Cuban jazz rhythms. “What’s hid-ing in the ten-e-ment hawwwls?” she sing-songs, her fingernails trailing against the old hallway that’s wearing thirteen coats of off-white paint. She looks over at me...
That old time excitement and pomp that used to pervade the American College Experience has long since passed us by; anyone older than fifty can tell you that. The exuberant sense of school pride and fervor for tradition of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s This Side of...
Passing Why is it important that the day Michael Landon died I was standing half-naked in Lee Bennett’s bathroom examining my newly budding breasts? A constellation fixed in memory: how my grandmother had bought me a pink-and-black bikini the day before on the first...
We’re in the black Dodge with red leather-looking seats and push-button drive. No stick or three-on-the-tree. We’ve always had a pretty cool, modern car, that’s one thing I can say. But I think I’d rather have a stick or three-on-the-tree. Since he...
