I once witnessed an injury in a pickup basketball game that is indelibly inscribed on my memory. The young man—the brother of an acquaintance, I’ve long since forgotten both their names—had driven toward the basket on a fast break and was attempting to jump stop with the evident intention of faki...
The time had come. Pencil in hand, notepad and coffee atop the mahogany desk where he sat with his eyes wide and his every nerve ending alive with possibility, he took a drink of coffee, and though it wasn’t very good—he suspected the Folgers can he’d discovered in the pantry was long past its pr...
She listened for Jake’s screaming, and sure enough, there it was: shrill, heartbreaking, endlessly grating. She opened her eyes and turned her head on the off chance Eric had come to bed, but of course he hadn’t. There were nights lately he’d never come to bed at all, instead cr...