Zoological Capers
From the start it was evident that my guide, Tony, would have been much happier working on his own. He only spoke to me to bark instructions. He barely made eye contact and didn’t respond to any pleasantries at all.
Coffee Ritual
Always the same large cups, mine from Fretboard and his from Trailhead.
Always the same dance of the mugs, clinking the ceramic, the scalding first sip.
The coffee is a ritual of purpose, of togetherness.
Of starting a day, and taking on a responsibility for myself and another person.
Something I chose and continue to choose.
Ready, Set, Ski!
Well before dawn on Sunday, there was a call coming up the stairs, growing closer and louder, “Who’s a skier?” Then a not too gentle knock on the door — BAM BAM BAM. And another call, retreating down the stairs, “The car is leaving in 15 minutes…”
The Book – A Review
The Book is as much a history lesson as it is a mystery, revealing more than it conceals, but always leaving a few things a little unraveled for our imagination to wonder at — for so history itself, with its often patchy evidence, demands.
Simpatico
We were simpatico, mostly, except when you slipped into your father’s skin. Your dad and mom were hand in glove, you bragged. His hand, her pliant glove, I thought, but never said.
Quarterly & Special Issues
Submissions next open from June 1 to August 31 2024
January 15, 2026
From the start it was evident that my guide, Tony, would have been much happier working on his own. He only spoke to me to bark instructions. He barely made eye contact and didn’t respond to any pleasantries at all.
January 11, 2026
Always the same large cups, mine from Fretboard and his from Trailhead.
Always the same dance of the mugs, clinking the ceramic, the scalding first sip.
The coffee is a ritual of purpose, of togetherness.
Of starting a day, and taking on a responsibility for myself and another person.
Something I chose and continue to choose.
January 10, 2026
Well before dawn on Sunday, there was a call coming up the stairs, growing closer and louder, “Who’s a skier?” Then a not too gentle knock on the door — BAM BAM BAM. And another call, retreating down the stairs, “The car is leaving in 15 minutes…”
January 4, 2026
The Book is as much a history lesson as it is a mystery, revealing more than it conceals, but always leaving a few things a little unraveled for our imagination to wonder at — for so history itself, with its often patchy evidence, demands.
January 3, 2026
We were simpatico, mostly, except when you slipped into your father’s skin. Your dad and mom were hand in glove, you bragged. His hand, her pliant glove, I thought, but never said.
January 1, 2026
what lies behind the speaking oceans? what resides between the words trees have spoken? what have the hums of my ancestors awoken?
December 31, 2025
I am New Year’s Day
for a short twenty-four hours;
ready to give everyone a fresh start in life
as my life begins seconds before…
December 31, 2025
The fax machine sprang alive. She waited for it to finish and read the paper. “Good Evening, Ms. Li-Tybalt. My name is Victor Rolfe. I operate a business known as the ‘Order of the Dragon Theatre Troupe.’ You have been selected to participate in one of our most exciting games to be held tonight.”...She crumpled the paper and tossed it towards the shredder. The fax rang again. She just caught the words on the paper. “Ms. Tybalt, I have your son.”
December 31, 2025
A strange darkness crept into my consciousness as I sat there with the broken ornament in my hand. Even the lights on the Christmas tree seemed to dim a bit, as if portending that something ominous approached.
December 30, 2025
I decided as my New Year’s resolution that I would both no longer be taken advantage of and I would collect money for our local food bank. I’ve been doing both.
December 30, 2025
I stared at my cards, feeling the weight settle in on top of me. If even my friends couldn’t take a stalker seriously, how could I expect the police to?
December 29, 2025
Thus assured that I could write a book despite my inexperience, a book that would give me glowing reviews — not to mention comparisons to Mary Higgins Clark — I continued to write page after page, totally immersed in the mystery I was creating.
December 29, 2025
A night in summer
With spiking heat from the walls —
Sunlight grazing us.
Twilight in the dark
As looming as summer waves.
Simple but profound…
December 26, 2025
Over the years, our plan has always been to keep a tree up until my husband’s birthday in early January, and we hoped this tree would hold on that long.
December 25, 2025
As I clung to my trees and ornaments, the family began to fall apart. Many loved ones began to distance themselves from my particular form of Christmas joy. Maybe my trees and the joy they brought me in the deep dark winters scared them away?
December 25, 2025
And beyond the street was the place she loved most in the world: the old Waterfront Inn. The gray paint was faded and cracked, the white window frames cracked even more, but the charm remained, leaving a timeless charm that had drawn thousands of guests and travelers to the little 25-room inn on the beach road in the little working-class town.
December 25, 2025
The angels came to visit
On this Christmas Day
With beauty in their eyes
Sending love my way.
December 25, 2025
Will it snow on Christmas Eve?
I think somehow it might,
but only if we’re all asleep,
and Santa’s in flight.
December 25, 2025
“Don’t you think it’s too soon to talk about getting another puppy for Christmas?” I asked, stealing another piece of bacon from the plate. “No,” Carol insisted. “You know how sad Crystal’s been since Mistletoe crossed the Rainbow Bridge.” “You mean since the dog died,” I translated, not being one for euphemisms. “Yes. It’s not good for her to cry all the time. She isn’t even excited about Christmas this year,” my wife replied. “But it’s only been a few weeks…”
December 25, 2025
One night, on her long journey south, the tiniest of owls, a Northern Saw-whet,
stops in a forest of black, wild spruces…