Brevity + September 2010

I have looked for you since 1982. It rained the day before. The curbs filled with dirty, driven-through water, and overnight the water filled up with tiny tadpoles. The next day, I made a pole from a stick and tied a bit of string to it. I knelt beside the puddle in my Gloria Vanderbilt…


The Houston Literary Review + September 2008

One afternoon late in September, a red squirrel with short arms, long finger-like claws, and superior sight was rummaging in a bed of dry leaves at the foot of a live oak tree. The red squirrel scratched and scratched searching for a place to bury the acorn that perched firmly in its tiny mouth. Among…