Spider in the sink this early autumn morning swirls in a whirlpool Donal Mahoney

I saw Al once a month for 30 years, maybe more, doing business together. He retired to hunt bear in Alaska, hook Tarpon

Beneath the bowling-alley bar marquee the rain tonight hammers off the concrete.

It’s a simple procedure I’ve done for years many times a day. You’ll go home this afternoon, take it easy over the weekend,

It’s Ramadan and late one evening I walk by a mosque and hear little girls laughing on the sidewalk,

It tears the stomach out of Roy to see old folks shopping at an all-night grocery store ancient couples, on canes and walkers

This just in. In metro St. Louis last night a woman gave birth to a boy in the bathroom of her second-floor apartment.

There never was anyone like Ali between the ropes or facing the public. In the ring and out

Jack’s a widower. His wife died years ago so every year he takes a plane and helps his mother decorate his childhood home for Christmas.

Born at the foot of the mountain what will you do? You have time to decide but some die young.

Woman in a window brushing long hair madly screams at a little boy down in the street licking an ice cream cone

I can’t speak for the women attending this conference on Homeland Security. They’re scholars, too, brought here for their expertise.

Cookies for George, 40 years back from Viet Nam, are the only payment the man will accept to mow your lawn,