He convinced the grudging attic door open with his shoulder. The narrow wooden stair groaned under his weight, causing him to wince.
Paint and perfume triggered memory. “Stella,” he whispered.
Winter light cast long Continue reading Candles and Shoes
Uncle Neal insisted she come to the East Village for a visit. “You have to come, Tina. You just have to.”
Tina held her breath and bugged her eyes out. “I can’t come today. I’m sorry.” She went down her mental checklist. There was so much still to do. And don’t forget Continue reading The Joy of Giving
I wouldn’t say Stacy and I have no traditions. Our traditions are the unusual. Modern gypsies. The world our backdrop for adventure.
“Do you think Santa will find us?” I ask. Continue reading Christmas with Stacy
My mates at the pub laughed when I told them. “With your daughters, Nigel? Are you mad?”
“Yep, mad.” My mug thumped on the bar.
The girls had been agreeably reluctant. Mum helped push them out the door. “Get along.” Continue reading Our Summer Day
“My daughter thinks I spend too much time with you, did you know that?” asked the old man.
The bird tilted its head. Blinked its eyes. Said nothing.
“What does she know anyway?” He slid his gnarled feet in his shoes. “She spends all her time at that job at the bank.” Continue reading A Man and His Bird