our legacy

This week my son, Django, went off with his dad, The Piranha, to the islands. This was a big step, I guess. Because there have been years, off and on, that the two wanted very little to do with each other. And that’s in addition to those years when I shunned The Piranha altogether, finding […]

brennan more

He says she’s guarded, that she’s got armor. But that doesn’t sound like her. Her words are more like . . . Poise. And subterfuge. She’s perched in his windowsill, writing. The house is old. It’s early morning and there is spring snow falling, uncertain in its descent. She left the house early for coffee. “Lie […]