Short Fiction
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Asche Manor rose before Geoffrey like a carbuncle. Brittle branches and towers of boxwoods shadowed his ancestral home. Geoffrey grimaced and looked away. They promised each other they would never come back. Miller pulled the car into the circular drive. Nothing had changed, Geoffrey thought. Nothing could. After university, Geoffrey had travelled from base-jumping in
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It was a vacant housefull of that good potato salad and Luther Vandrosssing alongs, tight roller sets, and easy laughtercautious windows watching over the neighbors it was an old housefirst built on the blockpainted brick and that tree the kids used to climbR&B in the kitchen, bikes in the driveway it was a nice housefirst
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Tell us that you hear our concerns Tell us how much you care Tell us how important our voices are Thank us for coming to share The conversation will continue Say we have to table this motion Regretfully for a year or two Tell us how much diversity matters Just not as much as vacations
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“Still or bubbly,” the waitress said.Avery flashed her a generous smile. “Just a Perrier with lime. Carl pick your poison. The club has an Scotch selection or—“Carl growled. “Look, this isn’t a social call. I just need to see those financials!”Avery and the waitress looked affronted.With its panoramic views of lush golf courses and sumptuous
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Here I hang from a limbin the upside downone leg bentone foot bound Suspended from wisdomthough clearly life’s clownhelpless, hopeless yethappiness abounds Apparently in difficultystrength can be foundrelax into uncertainty—poof!and clarity rebounds No swords, wands, pentaclesnor even the hierophant’s crowninstead I hold peace asmy change falls to the ground
circular staircase 