He is not inviting. A bottom dweller, feeding on death and decay in the dark. At first he is only a twitching, tugging, gnawing sensation of menace at the end of some twine. Then, lifted inch by inch, finger over finger into the murky green fringe of surface water light, he materializes as a, Read More
A picture of a young man hangs in my workspace. Four young men actually, but there’s one in particular looking directly into the camera and, as the frame’s orientation would have it, over my shoulder while I write. I knew this man to be, among many other things, a natural storyteller, so it’s a, Read More
It’s a park now, mown green-space and graveled paths owned by the city of Williamsburg Virginia. But when I was a boy, not so much older than my son is now, “Government Property” was a tangle of tidewater forest and marshland where earthen battlements – remnants of the civil war – lay hidden in, Read More