When I step off the bus it starts pouring, taking everyone by surprise—except me. Fellow travelers jostle for position under the bus stop’s overhang, kids shrieking and parents scolding them to stay out of puddles. A businessman grumbles about not having his umbrella: “The one day all week we were supposed to have blue skies!”…
“That carbon scoring came from laser blasts, not a hot re-entry. You might be able to fool the others, Tara, but not me. You should know better. That’ll cost you extra.” Janae side-eyed me while tilting her head towards the marks on the glider while shoving her hands deeper into the pockets of her coverall….
Vincent sat close to the furnace, sweat dripping off his forehead. His legs ached with the strain of trying to sit still, trying to show that he wasn’t nervous. “Who’s it going to?” Freda, the glassblower asked. She sat at a bench in front of the furnace with an ethereal sort of presence that made…
There’s a book on my bookshelf, “Green Summer, Orange Leaves, Purple Lives” by Gina Marshall, a library book I checked out years ago and never managed to return. It sits there, nestled between a handful of cookbooks I’ve acquired over the years and failed to use and the Bible I was given on the day…
