Margaret Ross’s voice didn’t so much travel across the boardroom as detonate in it. It cracked through the glass walls with a violence that had nothing to do with volume […]
Some Grandmothers Don’t Stay Quiet As told by Carol Martinez Ihave driven through the desert in all conditions over sixty-five years of living in Phoenix. I know what it looks […]
My birthday has always been less a celebration than a tax I pay for belonging to a family that never quite decided whether to love me or simply use me. […]
The View The short version is what I tell at bars when someone doesn’t believe me. They cut down my trees for a better view, so I shut down the […]
The glow from my laptop screen was the only light in the living room. I sat cross-legged on a cheap, scratchy rug I had bought at a thrift store eight […]
My name is Harold Brennan. I am sixty-eight years old, a retired forensic accountant living in the quiet suburbs of Phoenix, Arizona, and I have spent most of my professional […]
He arrived at the shore before most people had opened their eyes. That was the point, really. The early hour was not a sacrifice but a reward, the thing he […]
The smell of antiseptic is a memory trigger for most people. For me, it usually meant late nights reviewing case files or visiting crime victims to take depositions. Sterile hallways, […]
The first thing I noticed that night was the way the city lights spilled across the glass like scattered diamonds. Bella Vista had always done that. Framed the skyline in […]
The Arrangement My name is Eleanor Harris, and for most of my life I have been the sort of woman other people lean on. Students, neighbors, my late husband, my […]