Linen Closet Tryst
I signed up for the couples cooking class alone, which tells you most of what you need to know about me.
New stories
Newest first. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
Stories
Peony Season
I have been a court docket clerk in Třešť for thirty-eight years, and if you had told me at twenty-five that I would spend four decades…
Witness at the Customs Shed
I was sixty-one years old, sitting on a folding chair in a colonial jail, and I was thinking about the time I almost took my shirt off for…
Comet Light Over Us
My name is Jared, I'm sixty-two years old, and last August I did something completely out of character.
The Glove and the Gavel
I want to tell you how I ended up standing in a feather factory in Sikasso at half past six on a Thursday, holding a steel contraption I…
The Confocal Compromise
Ambrose checks the hygrometer for the fourth time in ten minutes.
The Rivet and the Rivet
My divorce went through in March, and by June I was still eating dinner standing at the counter like someone who hadn't figured out his…
The Embalmer's Watch
Olive here.
The Fermenting Rivalry
The thing you have to understand about the fermentation barn at our vineyard in Nababeep is that it hums, all day and all night, a low…
Boots on the Wrong Feet
I'm forty-three years old, I teach sports medicine at a university, and I have published two papers on injury prevention, so you would…
The Honey Pot at Dawn
I want to tell you about the honey pot, but first you need to know about the seaweed.
The Grinder's Witness
Sabine had been in Ahaura exactly two days, which was long enough to learn that her daughter's village had one bar and that the bar was…
Mulberry and Midnight
I wiped the dust off the champagne tap with my sleeve.
Shifting the Trail
The trail was quiet the way it only gets in the off-season, when the snow stops being something people pay to ride through and goes back…
The Cork Market Letters
Letter 1 Dear James, You left the market paperwork on the kitchen table again, so I figured I'd write instead of texting.
Empty Nest, Fresh Spark
My name is Debbie.
Taste of the Bitter Herb
"You want me to hold your life in my hands?"
Sourdough Starter
The night shift at the Nelson veterinary clinic is mostly me and a radio turned down low, walking the ward at two in the morning to check…
Boots and a Tent
The ferry left Dover at five in the morning, and I was on the deck for it because I figured if I was going to have a nervous breakdown…
The Weight of Everything
Moe here.