(November 1920) As he motored out of the cove, as his boat rode the gentle swells, he knew he was crossing seiches, knew because there'd been no wind for two full days, knew because the pressure was falling, had been falling all day, the pulsing behind his glass eye his barometer. He was glad of ...
She had a private room at the rest home, a single bed pushed up against one wall. A small black-and-white television on a shelf under a window that overlooked a grassy, man-made knoll where Norway pines had died not long after they were planted. There was a painting of a schnauzer dog hanging on ...
On one end of the couch his bushy-rimmed head rested on a pillow. A collage of quilts covered him, leaving only his clownish feet—snug in thick wool socks—dangling over the other end of the sofa. His arms were folded over his chest, the sleeves of his union suit coming apart at the cuffs. He migh...