It’s an Ill Wind… Waiting there on a pin point edge, ripe, balanced, succulent fruit, a huff, a puff of wind, it falls, the bird’s on hand fresh from his perch to pick and peck the juicy produce from thence return and deliver the spoils to earth to germinate.

Nail Biting

“Take me home, please?” She says, he slams his hands on the steering wheel and stares forward, looking out over the lake and takes a deep breath. “Was it something I said? I thought we were having a good time?” “We were, are, it’s just getting late, and Dad was precise about the time, no […]…Read more Nail Biting

Badfish in Malta

AT TWO MINUTES BEFORE SIX IN THE MORNING, the steeple bells on the Lunzjata Parish Church chime ten times. I make a mental note: “What the…?” I am holed up in a 500-year-old house with stone walls two feet thick, tiny windows to contain the weather outside, an arched vaulted ceiling 25 feet high, and […]…Read more Badfish in Malta

The father of children — Ordinary Handsome

The move to Wishing was the best thing. Frank Cobin wasn’t a big shot in town anymore, engorged with bravado and insolence. He was the stranger in town, and had no favor with the thin-faced men: the corner-men, the hustlers, the scammers, the casually dangerous. The move to Wishing was the worst thing. Marooned from […]…Read more The father of children — Ordinary Handsome