The Bird and the Blanket

“You’re always going to blame me.”Christine stood there, looking down into the hole in the earth at her feet. She didn’t think it was big enough. “It’s not your fault the bird flew into the fan, Christine.” Mike let his arm rise and rest on her lower back. She flinched, bending down quickly and placing…

My Place By The River

At the bottom of my parents’ property there is a river which is usually more like a creek. There’s an embankment next to the water. A miniature hill with a steep climb to relief from the humidity. I stand on the sand that runs parallel to the rise of dirt. A place that is now…