Tag Archives: Literary
Shadows on Ice
Excerpt from Nocturne Variations. They were spinning slowly, ever so slowly. Do you want to go faster, Piers reached down for the dial. I can make us go faster. No, Anya smiled. I like the speed. We’re … Continue reading
The Well
Excerpt from Nocturne Variations When Piers was six she fell into a well. The well was abandoned and no longer had any water in it. If there would have been water in it, Piers would have drowned. Sometimes she’d imagine … Continue reading
No Man’s Brooklyn
I have started working on my new novel: No Man’s Brooklyn. A return to the bones of childhood, and to tangled roots. A return to the gritty lore of Bensonhurst.
Digging for Air
There was always plenty of tomorrow-talk, bright ribbons of noise amounting to nothing. What we would do, where we would go, how we’d become this or that. We erected fragile monuments to ourselves, and expected others to pay their respects, … Continue reading
Childhood’s End?
Childhood, as a static port or fixed constellation, remains an ongoing historical fiction, in which small deaths, consigned to witnesses, inevitably breed the shadows of regeneration.
Garden
In seeding the bones fragile means to nuptial growth among mortal remains.
Birth of a Prologue
They say you can’t go home again. I don’t know who “they” are, but apparently this mysterious phantom collective is well-stocked in facts, aphorisms and guidelines. I was going home again, to Brooklyn, though the notion of return, … Continue reading
Crossing
The solitary spectral figure gliding smoothly across the plane of sea, validated the woman’s faith in her blunt decision to leave off, unfinished, far from the unlit days of a life unsown.
