Rumble Seat
Arnold Tanner’s father pulled his ’38 Ford onto Route 14, kicking up a billow of dust that seemed to hover above the rumble seat
Jetfoil: The Ballad of Elsa Morales
You don’t find homes of the well-to-do under the flight path of a busy airport, a stone’s throw from the runway where the
Jasper and The Tulip Poplars
There was a cold wind blowing down from the mesa and the moon was full. A ring of mesquite trees held the glow of a
Circle City
Back when Dothan was still a downtown town, come noon the stools rounding Jimmy's Horseshoe lunch counter had men perched on them. Men
Casual Spartans
This morning, I came into the new.
Far from the smallness,
from the basements and the Brahman night soil.
Long away from the caryatid nightmare,