I saw them once, when I was little. Maybe age four or five.
The tree on the other side of the fence had branches stretching over our garden. It was too tall for me to reach the succulent, juicy... [+]
Short Fiction
My friend Matty believed he could fly. “I have the cape and everything,” he told me one afternoon. We were playing knights and dragons in his backyard when he pointed to the roof.
“You... [+]
Harold Gates slowed the snow-topped yellow taxi and edged it along the slushy curb to a stop where she stood, shivering in a tattered wool coat in a January blizzard on the steps of her unlit... [+]
When she left, Anita took Mom’s valise, the round one with the wooden handle from Eaton’s department store. Mom was furious. She’d had it on hold at the store for weeks while she earned enough... [+]
Joan feels remorse for having hated her toes most of her life. She inherited them from her grandmother, who had hated them too. Her grandmother had cried at the swimming pool on Joan's 11th birthday... [+]
He was reaching for the top shelf then stopped. He moved his eyes to the next, lower shelf down and chose a jar. His hair was sheet white and his body frame resembled my father, tall and heavy set... [+]
The dryad who lives inside the oak tree has been terrorizing the condo building dwellers for generations. She throws acorns and pours sap and drops pollen on their cars, and causes severe allergies... [+]
“In their search for ‘devil’s gold,’ as they call it, about 300 miners make a daily climb two miles up the mountain, then head downward more than 900 yards into the volcano, where the sulfu... [+]
I got the idea from one of your old stories. Building golems out of river mud and whatnot. Except I didn’t want a golem. I just wanted you back by my side.
Peddling clayware in the sweltering... [+]