Only mad prophets and Jim Belushi have been able to live a life parallel to their own and remain the same basic person - despite living a life of radically different experiences - while everyone around them seamlessly adjusts to the alternate reality of what might have been. Read the rest of this entry »

It was the look of letting go, of giving over, a look of someone else I hadn’t seen before - that’s what she’d become. I was still trying to reckon to what I was seeing, when she spoke softly, yet firmly as if in conviction. “Why don’t you sit over here?” She made eye contact and took my vision, along with her own, to her left hand patting a place on the couch. Read the rest of this entry »

Edward and Sarah helped Mother take the dishes off the table. This year’s Christmas goose had been excellent. Mother had been cooking the plum pudding since the family had returned from church services in the afternoon, and it was delicious. Father stood up from the dinner table and gave an exaggerated yawn. “Well, dinner was superb. I believe that I’m so full I might have to go to bed and hibernate the rest of winter!” Read the rest of this entry »

Marian was puffing heavily by the time she and Dula reached the fifth floor. The elevator was old - a classic, the repairmen tinkering with its inner workings had said while they lovingly stroked the cables. It would glide up and down like a dream this time tomorrow, they said, but for today, the two ladies would have to hoof it. Read the rest of this entry »

A Lincoln Town Car stood out on a street of Fords, be they varieties of pickups favored by the working men of Bitterroot, or the affordable Focuses and Tauruses parked by office denizens. But Ross Bollard wasn’t trying to hide, not entirely. He reached into the glove box and withdrew a plastic sheath, and from that withdrew a piece of glass in the shape of an eight. In the driver’s seat, his brother Keen struggled to keep still as the magnetized frame caught the edges of the dark lenses and snapped into place over Ross’s clear glasses.
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“You’re out of your mind.”  Nickels sank back into the booth, shaking his head, incredulity painted across his face.  He reached for his beer, but stopped short of his mouth and put it back down.  “Are you serious?  Because if you’re not serious, if you’re just saying this to get me fired up, you should just tell me now.”  Read the rest of this entry »

Don Orson set the radio computer to play two tracks from the Ultimate Experience and left the sound booth to greet Nestor in the reception area. He had the practiced handshake of a politician, and he was one, in the student government sense. He offered Nestor a soda, which Nestor politely declined. Orson then ordered his intern, a freshman with skin that called out for accutaine, to fetch Nestor a glass of water from the mini-fridge. Read the rest of this entry »

Before the first of two booms brought them a fleeting taste of prosperity, and fame, Bedlam was unquestionably the least fortunate town on the west coast of New Jersey. All of the popular resorts in Southern New Jersey could be found along the east coast, easily accessed via the Garden State parkway, and while the residents of west-facing towns like North Cape May, Villas, and Del Haven publicly proclaimed their relief to be free of summer crowds, the pretty sunsets over the Delaware Bay failed to fill the local coffers. Read the rest of this entry »

He’d heard from Hank, the house painter, that his cousin had hired a young snot from up north to make changes at Stratford Hall. That’s what Hank called him. What R. Rupert “Buzz” Cutter called his cousin was a deal worse than that. Buzz didn’t have the name but he had the same blood that signed The Declaration of Independence and commanded an army in a revolt against The United States. And he had the family’s revolting mind. Read the rest of this entry »