Houston and New York and Budapest
My dad stared at our laundry line. “We used to do that.”Read More »
I can’t say what took hold of us that Saturday. We made a strange decision.Read More »
Driving through the dark down a Texas highway, my husband at the wheel, I shone the flashlight at the book and read,Read More »
An ancient pecan tree was witness to the Jacksons’ violent deaths and, 140 years later, the tree provided shade for the people gathered together to remembering the Jacksons’ fates.Read More »
I pause in my daily walk along the edge of the English town I live in and gaze across a soon-to-be-developed meadow and on towards the hills of DerbyshireRead More »
“Jimmy!” I shout into the phone, “I’m looking out the window at my front lawn at an honest-to-God human turd!Read More »
“Time to go, girls!” says Maria, the supervisory auditor, pushing back her chair, sticking out a leg, and checking her hose for runs. “This is important government business!”Read More »
“But who are you married to?” the older woman asked again.
“The German across the road,” I said for the third time.
She shook her head and frowned.
“He’s my husband,” I insisted.
She stared at me. “But . . .”
She just couldn’t believe that I, a white woman, was married to a German.*Read More »