Joe drove the back roads from the farm, winding his ancient Impala around the narrow country lane, a cold beer between his knees. He passed Balanced Rock, hulking off the highway, a massive boulder sitting lightly on three small rocks. He shivered for a second. His grandmother had a saying: Read more…
Words: 1,926 Music: Puccini, Verdi, Bach, etc. I still can’t get over how green everything is. The crepe myrtle in the front yard has bloomed, and the pink against the wet green is both soft and startling. Wind chimes: Everything was dark and green today. This was a jammies and Read more…
Words: 1,200 Music: Bach violin concertos I was thinking about this recently because of screenwriter Josh Olson’s blog in The Village Voice. Among Olson’s many pearls of wisdom there is this: It rarely takes more than a page to recognize that you’re in the presence of someone who can write, Read more…