Used to be after a snow our doorbell would ring and we’d find boys with shovels in hand looking to make some money.
Pastor Homer is a jealous man and Opal gives him fits through 40 years of marriage dancing, laughing kissing other men
Many decades ago when I was a kid we always expected rain at 3 p.m. on Good Friday said to be the hour
He wants to be fair to both sides because there’s an election coming soon so he tells his side every day
Long ago you said birth and death were the bookends of life. Nothing before. Nothing after. We were saplings at the time. Since then we’ve made a lot of mon…
He lives in the attic of the brownstone down on the corner, been there for years. He’s seen twice a day
Pete reads a story about an artist who never sold a painting until he… and then sold one for a million do… Finding the artist on the internet… his work is just odd shapes in bri…
Forty years Leroy was a doorman at a nice hotel in a big city. He was a country boy the day he got the job because he was tall and the uniform fit, the manager s…
An hour a day, sometimes more, I chipped away with mallet and chisel on a block of marble
In a long marriage couples communicate in so many ways, often in silence. In recent years I rise very early and now leave post-it notes
A poor man comes to the door after the storm last winter and asks if he can have something to eat if he shovels the walk. You say forget about the snow.
You see things at the rest home you don’t expect to see. New veteran in his Korea cap is whipping everyone else in pool. He never has to bend over
We worry so much because we’re nice people. We want to find a way to feed the poor house the poor
They’re getting older, five brothers and sisters, all with degrees, jobs, families, nice homes, good lives, happier than most except when they must
They’re widows, old and gray, bent over a quilting frame, sewing to meet a deadline for the next raffle
