Stories

  • Tick-Tock
    A blanket of death warms her feet. Only Grandfather knows the moment: Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Alive but not living, she waits. Memories float like autumn leaves, twirling on the wind. Gliding tranquility of twilight. Calls to a […]
  • The Chosen Child of the Marcahuasi Plateau
    “Dr. Olivia, come quick!” Andre yells into the subterranean chamber. Dr. Olivia Seaton studies a recent find of carvings—beasts never known to have lived in this high region of Peru called the Marcahuasi plateau, an intriguing and […]
  • The Guru & The Student
    The Master lifts the hem of his orange robes and feels the soft grass beneath his feet as he makes his way toward Eido, who stands ankle deep in the river waving at him —smiling brightly enough […]
  • RED BIRD
         Red Bird visits her again—the same red bird she remembered guarding her passage through the womb and the same red bird that appeared to her as a child when hands of evil sometimes covered her. Those […]
  • NIMBU
         A golden orange sun melts behind the plains of Africa as we sit before a fire Nimbu has prepared. Cinnamon, cloves and coriander simmer our lamb sacrifice into tender acquiescence, softly bubbling in a worn black […]
  • Daisy & the “Regulars”
         Daisy loves the coffee shop. She walks a few steps, wobbling on summer heels as she balances a steamy, teeny porcelain cup of overpriced espresso, even though she prefers cheap black coffee from her favorite chipped […]
  • All That Glitters
           “Take that one,” Evelyn orders.       “Which one?” I ask.       “The one in the case next to the woman wearing the blue scarf.”       “Why that one? It’s the most expensive one in the store […]
  • Eido & The Master
    The  Master & The Student By B.A. Crisp The Master lifts the hem of his orange robes as plush green grass cushions his aching feet. Ah, so soft, he thinks. He makes his way toward Eido, who stands […]
  • A DEPUTY’S ROAD HOME
    Inspired by a true story      From his seat Dan watched the other deputies and waited for briefing to end. It had been a long night of police calls in Immokalee—a sixteen-hour swing shift of domestic disputes, […]
  • I Have a Crush. It’s Not my Husband. I Blame #TheWeek
    I’ll admit it. I have a problem. The Week. It’s the “Best of U.S. and International Media” that arrives at our office, compliments of a colleague. Once I spy a copy, I disappear into the comfort of my favorite coffee shop and devour its contents, savoring each morsel of news as if it were fine chocolate—or a forbidden Playboy. Yes, The Week, is that good!