Sincerely and With Feeling

Sincerely and With Feeling

As the black crow flies, so too does the luck of anyone brazen enough to steal from the Painted Desert for the sake of a vainglorious because I can. Such a creature of inordinate vanity cannot, by the laws of moonlight and the writs of sunshine, remain unpunished for very long.

How About That

How About That

Dear Sir, My apologies that this awful news arrives so close to the holidays but I had some difficulty tracking you down. Your friend, Mme. Valentina Velasquez, has died. Her death was sudden, unexpected but painless, if that eases your mind in any way, and I do hope it does.

His Muse

His Muse

There’s a road in Costa Rica that is watched by snakes and stones. The stones don’t make the best sentinels (stony-faced as they may be), mostly because they have no eyes and can only roll loosely in one direction or the next to warn of trouble ahead. The snakes, by comparison,

Night Flight of the Sheep

Night Flight of the Sheep

“ … and, should the symptoms of sleeplessness persist, a patient may attempt any number of psychologically soothing exercises … lulling the mind to a more restful state of being … the most popular and effective of these called ‘counting sheep,’ wherein the patient, with eyes closed, begins enumerating sheep

Whale-Talk

Whale-Talk

Yosemite My name is Yosemite. I’m five feet, six inches tall with a reddish tint to my hair, a long beard that I never comb and green-blue eyes that are noticeably two different sizes. I only shower on Thursdays, smoke at least five cigarettes a day and eat my cereal

A Date Near Downing Street

A Date Near Downing Street

The taxi door fluttered open, a bright flap of yellow against the sluggish August wind. One last look to the driver with graying teeth and gangly, corn-husk hair and Simon Plinkers peeled himself out of the car. (This after sitting for twenty seven minutes in downtown traffic as the taxi meter skipped

The Figaro

The Figaro

Of all the details to remember, her hands were still the clearest in his mind. Unpolished nails of otherworldly innocence, intoxication by way of ten fingers and smooth skin and a wrist circled with Rolex Sky-Dweller gold, limited edition. Back to her hands. What did he later call them, windows

Moonlight Serenade

Moonlight Serenade

By Melissa Kandel There was no way around it: Luna had lost the moon. The revelation was quick but biting and it happened last night around dusk. She had been sitting with her cat, Marama, on the hill overlooking a town fading to pale, evening blue and there assumed her

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