Dreamers Rise

The tackle creaks as the net is pulled in. On the lantern-lit deck the crew plant their feet and strain at the rope. Spilled out on the b...

Winter mornings, waiting for dawn. (But then with the streetlight right outside the window it's never truly dark.) John Steinbeck and E...

Thomas Hardy: Then these children of the open air, whom even excess of alcohol could scarce injure permanently, betook themselves to the fie...

From the shore all that can be seen in the darkness is the flicker of lanterns on the long, low boat. The river's waters are moon-warm, ...

He drove south in steady rain as night fell. The radio was staticky from distant lightning and when the station began to fade in and out he ...

Possibly it's the end of the world, she's not the one to say, but if so as luck would have it the end of the world finds her in a ci...

One evening he was returning home from a weekend trip a few hours away. He had planned to avoid the city but had missed a sign, and not know...

High on the bluffs, in a bare room looking out on the city, a man waits for the approach of night. He stands by one window, his back against...

Last night I drove with my daughter to a club to hear a musician and singer whom I've long admired and whose visits to this country are ...

Once inside, past the vestibule and the women taking admission, the room is smaller than he expected, and before long it is filled with peop...

He sits alone at the table with his notebook closed in front of him, now and then sipping the coffee from a paper cup. It's a Friday nig...