The Bridge

Night lingers. I carry my feet up the trail covered in a thin layer of fog. Trees glow an ethereal green in the dull bright of twilight. I’m alone. Not even rabbits or squirrels are here for company. They sleep in their burrows, their dens, their homes.  An old wooden bridge sways halfway up the…

There Is No Sound, but the Machines Are Screaming

Take a deep breath.  I am breathing. The heavy air--fattened by the shavings of metal, humidity of sweat--fill my lungs with the part of my desert lips. My neighbors across my square, they breathe too. They open their mouths like fish. Gulp. Air in. Now continue working.  I work hard on the machine. Using the…

It’s a Cold Day and I Can’t Go Home

I no longer see the smoke from the village. It’s harder for me to pretend I’m warm. Not even the light of their flickering fires are in my line of sight. I am faced with the vast stretch of snow-covered wilderness. Frosted tops of evergreens, birches. Old lumbering giants that sway in the howls of…

Written Life

NOVATEK CAMERA I had to have been about seven-or eight-years old, when I realized the best hiding place was the book nook in the garage. A terribly small, doorless, little room, where my father kept his neglected stash of books. I was too young to understand most of what I was reading, but I recall…