Rachel sat at her desk wondering when, exactly, her baby brother became something she didn't understand. Sometimes the disconnect was extraordinary, as if he'd slipped and let some part of that alien human loose in front of her. The result... Read more →


The original timestamp on The Red Umbrella (and the light) is August 13, 2020 which has caused a dip into the well of cognitive dissonance this morning. The post was written forty-eight hours after I'd put my affairs in order... Read more →


Maybe it was the editor, I don't know. All writers have an identifying syntax, or voice, sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much. Some voices announce themselves at the opening sentence; or at the very least, the first paragraph. The voices... Read more →


Some memories hold on. They dig in deep and maybe we're unaware; but a photograph, a sound, in my case, often a smell, slams the entire vignette into the present. When this happens, I write as much as I remember.... Read more →


I fell down the rabbit hole in 1982, two months after my eighteenth birthday. I was in no way prepared for a hard tumble from the nest. There were three things that kept me off the street: a friend who... Read more →


I drove north to Starksboro on September 9 with no end date in sight. That's not me; I want concrete plans, or at least concrete foundations. I can improvise on that. The only concrete things I had were the drive... Read more →


It was an albatross, almost all of it, and I don't believe I ever asked for it. This doesn't mean I didn't make those choices; it just means I don't have to continue making those choices. I can stop now,... Read more →


1968 – Jack Speaks We are all standing in the living room of the big white house in North Kalamazoo. This is where we lived briefly when our parents first taught at Western Michigan University. Of everything I remember from... Read more →