“It’s twenty-one minutes before the hour.”

The radio announcer’s voice is cheerful, but the words sound ominous. Before the hour of what. Death? I shudder.

Continue reading… "Twenty-One Minutes Before the Hour"

The psychic was an ugly man, aging, in gold jewelry. I was unsettled by the darkness of his lashes, the fullness of his lips. When he laughed, he threw his head back like a woman.

“What about her?” My boyfriend asked. We were at a table of friends, lunching at a restaurant on the pier. The air moist and heavy, smelling of tarred decking and fried fish.

Continue reading… "A New Life"

You know by now not to judge a book by its cover. You should also know not to judge a heart by its visible mechanical support system.

I may not look like your idea of a heart patient, but I am one.

Continue reading… "The Family Joules"