Karen was down to 100 pounds. She wore long sleeve shirts to work to hide the marks on her arms. It had gotten so bad that one day, her boss pulled her aside and said, “Karen, do we need to talk?” ”Don’t, Ben. Life just sucks right now, you know? I’ll handle it.” And life did […]
Our steps crunched in unison as we made our way across the snowy expanse. We had been travelling for three days, towing our supplies on a toboggan behind us. We’d have to get to Nome before the thaw, which could happen at any time. Snow as far as the eye could see masked the hidden
I Hope They Find Me Read More »
(In today’s column, I feature “A Christmas Memory,” a short story written by a fellow native Alabamian, the late Truman Capote. I first heard this story forty years ago. In December of 1977, Mr. Randal Simmons, my seventh-grade English teacher, read it to our class. Even then, I admired its simple and elegant beauty as
My Favorite Holiday Story: Truman Capote’s “A Christmas Memory” Read More »
“What do you do in your private life when we’re not together?” Cody asked. “What kind of a question is that?” Don replied, glancing away. “I want to understand who you are in your private life, Don. Not the you I already know. The you in your secret alone-time. What do you think? What do
The sun crested the horizon and burned the mist from the water. Helen sat at her writing desk and stared out the window at the calm sea. She hadn’t missed her morning swim all summer, and she liked these conditions. She wanted to feel the cool salty water against her skin. She finished the letter
Beyond the Sandbar Read More »
The wall was vast and freshly cream-white, bordered by oak runners. There was only the blemish, a spot where the paint chipped away, digging a shallow groove lost among shadows. But Lydia Parfitt found it. “Here,” she said, tapping the spot with a buffed red nail. “I knew I saw it. It’s a chip in