Painting by Myrna Cranmer

A Gift for Marie

            Sasha is a name that is hard to pronounce, thinks Marie, but there is no need to say names when you are splashing paint on snow and swirling it together to make wonderful patterns. Paint soaks through snow. Sasha upturns a can of yellow and Marie pats her on the cheek with a spot…

Gail Chandler painting.

Riomaggiore

             The man at the other end of the note bought her a coffee. They sat on the veranda, he lost behind sunglasses, she exposed and verdant in Italian sunshine. He touched her hand first. He touched her hand first. She squeezed his fingers and staggered through the debris of words…

How Harper Lee Saved Me

Originally posted on Exile on Pain Street:
Several people have pinged me about the announcement of Harper Lee’s new novel. It’s based on a recently-discovered manuscript that she wrote in mid-50’s and takes place 20 years after To Kill A Mockingbird. I think just about everyone has already read and commented on this post but I thought…

It’s My Job, Edith

            The corner store is raided. I am stealing candy bars by the handful, licorice by the roll. The clerk offers a plastic bag. “No thanks,” I say to her.             Layne gave me a twenty to, in her words, “Get her through the next round of liquid food, and maybe to have some normal-looking…