A New Kind of Literary Pulse

My daughters run across the hard-packed sand, their blonde hair—Maureen's hair—streaming out behind them. They are three little replicas of my wife.
As always, the worry grips my heart with icy ...  [+]

The master alchemist's voice rang clearly from the stone walls. Anyone hearing it knew immediately that he was Important."The vials are identical," he explained, as if lecturing particularly favored ...  [+]

My sister Ellen likes to tell me I am a good plain cook. Rather than be offended by this, I take a pride in getting the basics right. It doesn't matter how fancy you are if it doesn't taste ...  [+]

There's a relief that comes with revealing things down to their minutiae; small gasps of relief make space in the bedroom for the proverbial elephant. I do have a good husband. He's the kind that does ...  [+]

The wind outside was a constant howl, but the sun would be up in a few hours. Days were calmer, typically.
He'd have to climb out of the train tunnel and replace the antenna again if the weather got ...  [+]

She ruined my life and all she can think about is wearing khaki.
"They make you wear khaki jumpsuits," Mom says. "I look hideous in khaki."
Mom, Dad, and I are parked in front of the Federal ...  [+]