He had the lesson time wrong. 4:30. He arrived earlier. He remembered his violin. He remembered his music. He waited in the hallway, and a girl scooted in before him,…
Author: <span>Beth Hendrickson</span>
What I miss about the place are the sounds. Hisses. Sputters. Splutters. Burps. I miss the place and I think of onomatopoetic words: Fissure. Muck. Splatter. Whisper. Burble. Splat. Slurp.…
1-2-3-breathe -1-2-3-breathe. That’s the stroke-breath pattern swimmers follow. By which I mean swim-team-ish swimmers. Muscle memory is strong. I sneak a peek at a man with grey chest hair and…
I have a persistent fear of our dachshund disappearing into a muddle of bone and fur beneath the wheels of a minivan hurtling down our street. This is not our…
The blank screen presents a challenge: electrocute black and white letters into neon colors in a reader’s imagination to describe Randyland, a must-see-to-believe destination in Pittsburgh, PA. I stare. …
The husbands babysit the grill while nursing craft beers; they circle their favorite conversation of 2020: airports. These men are middle-aged, middle-class birds of a business traveler feather. They wear:…