This world is so wrong, and we must make it right.
These things do not happen to the dead, she told herself.
* Story contains bad language
His mother once told him a story about how his granddaddy nearly gave her away.
There was always news, Antonio thought, as the announcer’s name started to boom out, and he was glad for that.
They were his creation and he cared for them like a father should.
She looked at me with wonderful blue eyes.
He sat on the bench. Their bench. And watched the birds. And remembered.
There is a bleached skeleton that holds no marrow.
Truda paused at the gate and tried to calm her racing heart.
Ideas. That was what it was all about and all it was about
I am looking at something I thought mine alone...a beech leaf, brittle and brown now.
"I love you, Martha, but you break things. You're breaking us."