My new neighbor was a hoarder. She hoarded everything. Crystals, pink bakery boxes—she even took in children. Each one was flawed: too restless, not bright enough, a daisy-shaped head. The sound of ...  [+]

I tilted my rocker back and blinked into the sun. A whirring fly circled my head. None of my efforts to swat the sucker had worked, so if I wanted to smoke, I'd have to put up with him and the likes ...  [+]

Everyone loved Auntie Joe's cat T. She got him when he was just eight weeks old—a curious, friendly, fearless gray tiger. He was hilariously clumsy, too. When leaping onto a table, he'd usually ...  [+]