"there's me and you." my dad was referring to two men, one older than the other and both considerably older than we. the younger pushed the elder in a wheelchair to a nearby table. i looked at them briefly and returned to my plate grinning. we were at our usual breakfast place. i simultaneously enjoyed … Continue reading fathers and sons
Tag: Writing
this is for you, tati... afternoon light poured weakly through the large kitchen windows -- divided by the slats of the mini-blinds that hung there -- and patterned itself in dull bands across the table where tatiana had been absently perusing a clothing catalogue. she slowly looked up and out the window to her right … Continue reading a surprise visit
it wasn’t until the fourth star leaped from the sky that he made a wish. until then, he’d been driving along the empty highway that led him through north texas toward colorado as orion leaned heavily northward in the sky outside the driver’s side window, pointing the way with his arrow. she was asleep in … Continue reading unknown roads
there are those who assume a story ends on the last page and others still who assume it began at all.
emma was nine and her parents were protective. “stay where we can see you,” they’d say when she played outside. her friends rode the bus home from school and had keys to their houses; very self-sufficient at such a young age. but emma only rode the bus when her mother was home to receive her. … Continue reading if it doesn’t rain
we came upon a tree that barely survived another hard winter. "will," grandma said. "that's some will." i looked to my small brother. i'm not sure he understood what she meant that day, but he examined intently the way the tree held up the sky in its frail, skeletal limbs. grandma died the following year. … Continue reading the inspirationist
a story doesn't have to tell the truth; it just has to tell a truth.
Nicolas Gonzales 