If I Worked My Hands in Wood

“I don't know what's happened to him.”  Anelisse says to her childhood friend.  “He's gone native.” “He went to America, not Polynesia,” Naomi laughs.  “You wouldn't reconsider?” “He's living in obscurity over there, and giving away his fortune here.”  Anelisse shakes her head in dismay.  “It makes no sense.” “A midlife crisis.”  Naomi reassures her.  …

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One More Thing

“Anelisse,” Leo says, his voice straining. “Be reasonable,” she says. He adds a few more drops of boiled water to his coffee, a thick, dark, potent brew he'd forgotten he missed. “Try it for a season.”  His spoon glides through the light froth gathering along the curve of his cup, first clockwise then counterclockwise. “The …

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Big Wheel Keep On Turnin’

Ned parks the homeless shelter's mobile soup kitchen across from the overpass.  Tents, along with suspended tarps and blankets crowd under the overpass, stretch as far as the eye can see, until the concrete structure curves up and over the highway. What have we done to our city.  Mingan wonders, not for the first time. “All …

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