After a Stroke, My Mother Speaks to a Stuffed Pheasant in Her Son-in-Law’s Living Room
by Tom Daley Pheasant, I promised my sons I will only leave them to climb the hill to the long sleep if you dare to fan your wings in this room.
Normal, Illinois
by Richard Spilman Because home is the one place you cannot escape; because it sat in the middle of the county, in the middle of the
The Sadness of Hats
by Richard Spilman He had been taught like many men his age not to look at himself, even in mirrors. Shaving saw only what he had to. So it was