our last day

(this story first appeared in Vol 28.1 of December Magazine) First the snow. Three heavy hours. We run in it. Play. Build snowmen. Snowball fight. Fall onto our backs, move our legs and arms back and forth until we turn into angels.   Then the heat. Within an hour the snow is gone. We are down … More our last day

in the moonlight

I’ve made it home, and I’m coming to. In my bed. Fully clothed. On top of the covers. Someone’s coming up the stairs. Slowly. Deliberately trying to be quiet. But the old staircase is creaking and popping, giving them away, mapping their ascent to my room. I try sitting up, but I’m hung-over and still … More in the moonlight

Our Summer Cottage

            Driving down Long Lake Highway. Excited and chatting about the little red cottage we just toured. The kids love it. I sense nothing but good vibes. But Jen, my wife, doesn’t like that the neighbors are so close, that the water is only two feet deep at the end of the dock, and that … More Our Summer Cottage

the never end

I lifted the cat and hugged her. Even though she’s shit on our bedroom floor and I stepped in it twice. Barefoot. Once, as I clomped my way to the john in the dark. Bladder so full of vodka, Sprite, and water that I thought I’d never go back to bed. The other, a weird … More the never end

after the rain

He comes to me. Big, brown eyes. Smiling. “Daddy, let’s pick night crawlers.” “What for?” He does a little jump. Claps his hands. “For fishing!” My boy. Five years old. Tickled with the notion of traipsing through puddles, picking slimy worms. “But we can’t go fishing today,” I say. “Mom will be here soon.” Undefeated. … More after the rain