Category: Uncategorized

 The north end of St. Augustine’s Anastasia Island was a lowland salt swamp until 1925, when millionaire developer David P. Davis purchased 1,500 acres of sand spit and mangrove swamp and began dredging. No one imagined he’d plunge from a luxury liner’s stateroom window, never to be seen again. The word “shores” usually conjures impressionist…

PRIDE

As my wired wooden bones hobble toward the bathroom this morning, I wonder when I became someone who likes air conditioning. I used to love melting in the sun like a buttery tiger from Little Black Sambo before Ron DeSantis became governor. Now, as republicans grab power and I recline on my adjustable bed with…

A Red Wing Blackbird says, “conk-la-reel.” The news says, “Authorities say the group of seven young people beat a man, unprovoked, and stabbed him in the thigh while making anti-gay remarks.” You say, “Can we listen to something else?” heading into the garden. I say, “Sure.” You say I’m addicted to bad news since I…

“I’m gonna make it harder for you to die,” I said, grabbing garden tools from my truck bed and heading toward Eileen’s precious backyard, devastated by cold and floods. At eighty-eight, she reads minds as I do at sixty nine, probably sensing my boyish need to fix things for women who might vanish like my…

The call of the open road beckoned me backwards. After eighteen years of jumping from one relationship to another to avoid being alone, I buckled up for the next 2,500 miles with only my dog. Phantoms began awakening on the George Washington Bridge before secrets from earlier road trips stuck their thumbs out for a…

Though hardy vegetation was typical heading north, by late June Lake Michigan disguised the nearness of Canada with soft silvers and muted greens – colors April would have known the names for. I told myself the hues were from steady wind or the reflective moody sky, but like everything else in my life, I had…

“How old are you?” the woman driving asked as I hopped in the back of her station wagon beside her two young daughters. “Seventeen,” I said, lying. “Well, you look twelve. Does your mother know you’re out here?” The collect call from Cleveland echoed in my mind – my voice steady through the motel phone,…

My father gunned his impatient BMW toward I-80, determined to get me past the George Washington Bridge. Stuck in high traffic, the unyielding bridge rivets and dreamlike far reaches of the Hudson River burnished themselves into my psyche. I watched Cochise and his band of scouts on the Palisades, saw Hiawatha leap from a high…

After several days and hard nights peeling away layers of my own skin writing, I was at my wits end when I thought I felt Sarah’s brother tingling up my spine. At some point, everyone I’ve ever met has shown concern for my mental health. I’d been slaving away for corporations tapping into unseen forces…