The pattern I saw as a small child when I closed my eyes: concentric ovals in purple, red, and electric blue, with the oval rings vibrating around a few dots in the center, which vibrated too. The sound of my mother sitting on a sofa in our quiet house late in the...
Phillip Madeira was the kid that made me believe in God. The nuns at St. Joes couldn’t do it. Choir boy, first communion, confirmation—the holy shebang. None of it stuck until this neighborhood kid, Phil Madeira from across the street, christened me in God-fearing...
On the day of his mother’s wedding, Brian’s father took him to see Star Wars. With his feet sticking to the ground, they snaked their way into the back row of the theater and Brian’s father handed his son the tub of popcorn, the butter leaking down the side and onto...
He said he thought it would be easy. He’d been dying for such a long time. Twelve years to be exact. He remembered the day the doctor told him: a Wednesday. The color of the light: white. The outside temperature: chilly for southern California. The look on Sukie’s...
The dusty yard feels cool, though the day has been unseasonably warm. On the far side of the rusted chain-link fence trots a dirty white dog, some mangy stray. Its shadow is long in the setting sun’s light. Its shaggy head sways from side to side as its nose travels...
