My name is Alastair Humboldt. I have been a book critic for the Literary Review of London for thirty years.…
Blah, blah, blah. He really did talk a lot. I tried to listen and follow but I was never interested…
There was a freak snowstorm on Easter. I had the day shift in the ER at Chicago General. Snowflakes, heavy…
There is a mermaid that lives inside me. She rests under my left breast. I’ve been to the sea twice.…
The quality of my thoughts affects the quality of my life. All life. On this lonely planet, there are three…
September was a fever. Summer faded to fall and my love of Michael blossomed into an obsession. Every moment I…
You won’t like this story. There’s no twist at the end. I’m going to share a straight life with no…
As I ate chicken and rice at a cafe in La Paz, Bolivia a German man, who blocked the sunlight…
He had chased me through the garden with the clipped, orderly hedges, the prim and pretty flowers, the flagstone path,…
As the police officer fingerprinted me he scowled. “You should be ashamed of yourself, beating up a child.” He then…