We write the stories of our lives between the bookends of birth and death They stay on the shelf
On weekday mornings on a quiet corner three moms with small sons and daughters wait for a school bus
No Supper for a Year My wife looks out the kitchen wind… and tells me the starlings are bac… the same big flock as yesterday strolling around our yard
Where did it go? I really don’t know. I lost it weeks ago in the middle of the night. Too tired to get up.
We have a drop-off problem in Ame… We must decide which restroom one can use when nature beckons. So far, tumult reigns among the pe… If we declare both genders equal
An old guy on the subway with a lunch bucket tells a young lady with a brief case Bernie hasn’t got a chance.
They had things in common, Paul and June, at an age when most boys and girls don’t and maybe that’s why they were the only couple in sixth grade dating, if you can call it that. This wa...
I wish he had never come out from behind the stove, that spider I stepped on at 4 a.m. He was a big one bothering no one.
Otis was once a monk who took no vows, was free to leave the abbey and eventually he did. I met him over chicken wings
Thirty years ago, long before ISIS started executing Kurds, Muslims and Christians, I hired a Pakistani Muslim as an art director in Chicago. I was an Irish Catholic editor putting out ...
Everyone who has money should drop it in a vat and anyone who needs money should take what they need a Swede, a Dane and two
A bitter Christmas morning after a foot of snow last night. I shovel the sidewalk and make my way to the bird feeder. Before I can fill it, the wrens
Jane told Tarzan toodle-oo and moved away to Arizona because although it’s hot out ther… it’s a dry heat and not the swamp of heat she found herself panting
When bread is this good a morsel will suffice and when wine
He’s always believed people of every faith can live in peace together in America no matter what happens