Breaking Wallace Goldberg’s nose for being constantly late on the juice. Or the time I took a sledgehammer to Dennis Quinn’s legs and left him in an open grave in St. Anthony’s Cemetery. That’s as much as she knows about me.… more
Breaking Wallace Goldberg’s nose for being constantly late on the juice. Or the time I took a sledgehammer to Dennis Quinn’s legs and left him in an open grave in St. Anthony’s Cemetery. That’s as much as she knows about me.… more
Calvin looked kind of pretty, with his plumes of curly hair, sprawled in the grass, surrounded by a ring of white clover blossoms.… more
Men like James don’t know softness, don’t know a whole lot other than work. They still look for God, though. Even after hours on the floor at Honda, they crawl towards church fronts, hungry and tired and missing their wives and brothers and sisters and cousins and mothers. The gods they know during the day are not gentle like the one they are here looking for. … more
Greta March brought Evan up for one last tryst. Years had passed since they’d seen one another. Now everything was different. It wasn’t quite the end yet, but she was beginning to betray a deeper degree of illness—a general thinning of figure, feature, and voice. She wanted to see the lake house alone this last time.… more
It was what they had both wanted. Pulsing club music. Alan’s hands on the man’s hips. A bright smile with a wicked hook. When they kissed, it had been more like crashing. Collision.… more
“By saying yes in spite of the dangers, I felt I made myself vital and trusted. And was this not what a good American was supposed to do when making friends abroad? To open themselves up to new experiences, to say yes as much as possible, even when the proposition was frightening?”… more
No one broke Jesus’ legs, but someone made Him bleed. … more
Is there balm in Gilead? A nonbeliever reaches for the divine.… more
“You can’t start here, you can’t admit this to anyone, for fear they’ll doubt your love is real…” … more