It was a bitter cold December evening, and Officer Pierce wished he was home with his family. It was the holiday season, after all.
Soon he arrived at the scene, which had an ominously festive appearance. Blue and red lights flickered, reflected in the glass shards that covered the ground like a light dusting of snow. The crunch of his boots on the glass sounded like a stroll through a winter wonderland. But there was death here.
It was a dangerous corner, a turn that coincided with an intersection established long ago, when drivers heard hoof beats or the jingle of horse-drawn buggies, and paused, tipping hats and bidding good evening to neighbors they knew, not only by name or appearance, but by voice and words and deeds.…
...continue reading
Jane was visiting her therapist for what she thought would be the last time. Her health insurance provider had determined that Dr. Goodbody was “out of plan,” and Jane’s visits would not be covered.
Jane settled down on Dr. Goodbody’s sofa and talked for a while, explaining her circumstances; then she invited him out for dinner.
“Jane,” Dr. Goodbody said, “we cannot conduct a therapy session in a restaurant. It’s unprofessional. It’s….it’s….”
“…It’s Thai,” Jane said. “It’s the new Thai restaurant on the corner. We could have Pad Thai. We could have Kanh Ko Mu if they’ll go easy on the garlic. You may be out of plan, but we could still have champagne to celebrate.”
“Celebrate? I may be out of plan,” the Doctor said, glaring at her across his desk, “but perhaps we should discuss the possibility that you are the one who’s out of plan. …
...continue reading
Maybe I should feel guilty. I don’t. She really did have it coming. But you know that.
Try the shrimp. That’s a wasabi crust; the dipping sauce is orange-ginger.
Where to begin? You know, things used to be really good between us. Effie and I were together six years. And up until the last couple months, everything seemed great. Sure, we had our ups and downs, like everybody, but we always worked them out. Until he came along.
You okay with me not using his name? Yeah, I figured you would be. It’s childish, I know, but I can’t bring myself to say it. It grates on me that much.
Anyway, Effie comes home one day and announces that her boss is dead and gone. Terrible thing.…
...continue reading
Two dark-haired students wearing Brazilian-flag tee shirts undressed Jessica with their eyes. She tossed her red hair and turned her back on them. She’d arrived in Belgium from the States on Saturday, and this was her first day of a summer semester studying at Katholieke Universiteit Leuven. The orientation for new and reentering students had ended, and she weaved through French and Flemish conversations. She was in the square outside the arched portico of the Tower Library, a Gothic, gild-relief building. The sky was gray-smeared clouds.
A sandy-haired student wearing wire-rimmed glasses and a pink tie spoke in German-accented English to a fellow with a three-day beard and flowing blond hair under a black ski cap.
The German said, “Read Kafka. The meaning of life is that it ends.…
...continue reading
Parrots mate for life, I’m told. I don’t know how parrots show love, whether they crowd and peck, or groom and chatter with adoration. My parents pecked at each other in a partnership of endurance for most of their forty-five years together. My mother craved order, but my father loved a soiled nest, cluttering the house with newspapers, bus transfers, receipts, notes on napkins, Torah passages, and pamphlets from Jews for Jesus and Mary Baker Eddy. My mother forced him to take it all to a closet in the basement.
When we children had fledged and flown away, my parents sought new shelter. Their overheated one-bedroom in a subsidized high-rise, where the odors of curries and sofritos wafted through the hallways, offered no basement and no room for his clutter.…
...continue reading
In keeping with its name, this meal gives a devilish dose of mayhem – until the aroma of forgiveness infuses every heart within the home.
Makes a family size serving
Total Time: Nineteen years to marinate and one night to complete
Ingredients:
- 1 spurned ex-daughter-in-law
- 1 bastard son who was unaware of his status
- 1 woman diagnosed with Stockholm syndrome
- 1 Mafioso lover who was also an ex-drug addict
- 1 loving husband who had a vasectomy
- 1 bad ass pastor
- 1 informed daughter
- 1 SWAT team
Preheat: To a steaming, sweltering, and scorching temperature
Combine: The blending of two or more food ingredients to create a mixture. He slashed girl’s faces for disrespecting him. He killed seven men. I was coerced through fear to engage in sexual relations with a man who claimed to be in the mafia and who had been clean from drugs for two months, a lethal combination.…
...continue reading
I didn’t want to go that day, but my mother said we were lucky and had to give back. I was fine with just being lucky, but she was feeling all do-goody and dragged me to the church where they were handing out cleaning supplies and clothes and old people in World’s Best Grandma sweatshirts were drinking coffee and telling kids to keep it down. In the kitchen, a lady loaded our summer cooler with hot food coming off a big silver stove.
We were runners, she told us; our job was to deliver meals to the beach, where the storm had hit hardest. At the barricade, I thought it was cool when the National Guard checked off our names and waved us through, but my mother didn’t think it was a list you wanted to be on.…
...continue reading