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When they'd first come out in the morning, a single flounder lay flapping and puffing in the breezeway, one sad, swollen eye looking back toward the s...more

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And often the worst thing wasn't the victims--they were dead, after all, and beyond any more pain. The worst thing was those who loved them and surviv...more

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Lately, though, he'd just been tired in general. Tired of people. Tired of books and TV and the nightly news and songs on the radio he'd heard years b...more

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But as the years passed, he missed her more, not less, and his need for her became a cut that would not scar over, would not stop leaking.

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She said once that time is nothing to me but a series of bookmarks that I use to jump back and forth through the text of my life, returning again and ...more

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One that society can't forgive, but I can.

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...you have to bear witness to your dead. You simply have to. You have to step into their energy field of whatever remains of their spirit, their soul...more

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Danny could see it in their faces when they shook Steve’s hand—they’d have preferred him dead. Death allowed for the illusion of heroism. The maimed t...more