Everyone called it the Millpond. Built by an enterprising gentleman to run his saw mill a hundred and twenty-five years before, the...

We slept with the fleas that August. The house was situated along the White River, about twenty minutes from West Lebanon, New Hampshire....

You asked me if I liked Van Gogh. “What?” My eyebrows rose. “The Irises,” you said, motioning to the purple flowers sifting down the...

You sit alone with your hard seltzer and your phone, scrolling and scrolling. Who can you rage at today on the internet? It’s your...

It was a night with wispy clouds, a long time coming. A time between days of the week. A night where good happened. I had to make it...

I wear special clothes when I visit my dad. I have a routine. When I get home from school, I head to the far closet at the end of the...

Time is dead in the shop. It sags beneath its jaunty green paint job, applied by well-meaning relatives, the placard announcing its...

It is hard to watch your childhood drift away. Like the waves of the ocean rolling back to the sea. The memories fade and return to their...

When I was seven years old I held my finger over an open flame for a minute and a half just to see how long I could manage. When I...

“Well, I didn’t know about all the gay stuff,” she said with a small chuckle, playing with the strings of her light green hospital...

Mrs. Borne was sitting on the floor of their apartment waiting for her husband to return from work. In a burst of anxious contemplation,...

Do you remember the strawberries? You said you loved the plumpness of them, the ripeness- that they made you think of spring, of...