Mrs. Rabinowitz is sitting on the beach with her little grandson, who is playing in the sand with a pail and shovel when a great tidal wave suddenly appears and sweeps him out to sea. Mrs. Rabinowitz (shaking her fist at the sky): God, bring him back! Bring that little boy right…
Betty doesn’t know how much longer she can stall Mrs. Beatrice. For more than a month, the poor thing has tried to schedule an appointment. She phones and chats as if nothing is the matter, as if she hasn’t a care in the world, and Betty hopes that just this once she won’t ask, but…
I had to ask someone how to find the criminal court building, so apparently I’d led a sheltered life. A woman directed me to Franklin Street and said I couldn’t miss it. I walked east toward the hulking gray walls which dead-end that part of the city. It was the cold Monday after New Year’s….
They head south, and as they move out from under the dense Baltimore sky toward air and ocean and hot sun, Flo and Matthew beg their mother, Marie-Claude, to tell stories. Flo loves the ones about when Marie-Claude was as young as she is now, and Matthew wants to hear, over and over, how he…
On his way home from the Holland Park Underground Station, James Briggs had a curious sense of event in the windless, autumn evening. The house in which he lived with his wife and their one-and-a-half-year-old son was in a square, and in the garden of the square a fire was burning, the high, cracking flames…
The bullets took their thuggish way, and like words once sounded couldn’t be unsounded. Was I like him? Very sadly, with immense and quiet bitterness one by one the blood members of your body— daughter, grandson, and granddaughter— have heard you say I should never have married him, thereby unsaying us. Small and excitable, he…
My deaf cousin had a hand in designing the Tomahawk Missile. The blueprints open on his desk for what was to become a show-and-tell-style reunion. I hadn’t laid eyes on this exuberant man since chance threw us together at a party given by his best friend whose brother was your real father’s best friend, and…
I met my best pal, Phil, about ten years ago through our mutual wife. I was a young actor on the rise then, a couple of years out of Julliard, I’d done two seasons of Biloxi Blues (Broadway and a touring company) and although I was raised as a nice Jewish boy, I kept getting…
All the familiar contours chasten. The lake is a pool of dark thought. There, the clouds bear pale change, gathered in contemplation. The lake is a cup of gray fear: your body in the cold dawn upturned, and my own drowning eye opened on the floating light. And I can see the pines unclasp each…
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