Every day the same play. The moment I rise, the first act begins, the same plot

When you’re a pharmacist you don’t ask customers how they’re doing. You know from the meds they pick up

A refugee from another country tel… people thrive on proving their bel… more than understanding one anothe… They will let a stereotype fall on… like a cheap dress as long as it f…

From my stool in the diner I watc… the old woman with elm tree arms command the big booth in back and roar for a menu, take a half hour to read it

Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow in February and says six more weeks of winter. That same day the first moth of spring lands on my storm door

Both of them had been to Korea. Both of them had made it back. One found a job

Three are known by name, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, but there are a zillion angels, pure spirits who have no wings like those we draw on Cherubim,

Sometimes you sit for days sucking yourself in praying the right words will fall in your ear toboggan over the whorls

“Tell Pablo I cannot see!” says the man in the Picasso painti… as I pass by, program in hand. The man has a hairy nose where each of his ears should be.

I never think about bison. After all, I live in St. Louis, why should I? But when I went hunting for quail in Montana

Walter Branham, a retired teacher, and his wife Victoria went to Applebee’s, the chain restaurant, for lunch one day last week. First time they had gone there. Usually they go to an eth...

You take care now, Harold, and don’t slip on the ice looking for a good bookstore on the streets of Chicago. Print is dead, Harold,

Walking in the forest as morning comes I hear piccolos of wrens and robins offer hymns to God

Far from the city way out in the country a hot afternoon in high summer as we drive down a bumpy road bouncing one mail box past