The artists were kept in cages. This was for their own good. The world had gotten really ugly, really fast, and the artists, generally, did not have the skills to survive. Most did not know how to … [READ MORE]

A Bruise the Size and Shape of a Door Handle When Salma was nine her mother died and she went to live with the father she knew only through … [READ MORE]

Good Sea grass tickled the backs of our knees as we crossed the beach. Meredith was trailing behind, humming something familiar, but it was … [READ MORE]

Lake House

We retired, and we bought a house by a lake that none of our friends had ever heard of, in a town none of our friends had ever heard of, in a region of northern New York far from anything, where every … [READ MORE]

The Key Bearer’s Parents We were good parents. We know people assume otherwise when they see our wide ties and honking red noses, but we … [READ MORE]

The Cupcake Factory This is New Hampshire in winter, past midnight. The roads are clear, the houses dark, the sky a suffering orange-gray, fat with frost … [READ MORE]

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