The black man who approached from the rear of the gathering at my father's burial looked to be one hundred years old. He was frail, but not bent. He walked haltingly, supported by two black ... [+]
Kenneth N. Margolin is a retired attorney, and lives with his wife, Judith, in Newton, Massachusetts. Ken made it a sacred mission to avoid legalese in his professional writing. Ken's stories have ... [+]
Originally published in Shot Glass Journal
Between these yellow lines,
The promise of safety
Retreats before the distraction, impatience, the rage
Of my neighbor; who on the street would wish me well,
Then behind his car's tinted glass,
Succumbs to a darkness he does not understand.
The promise of safety
Retreats before the distraction, impatience, the rage
Of my neighbor; who on the street would wish me well,
Then behind his car's tinted glass,
Succumbs to a darkness he does not understand.