a fleeting ripple

Some guitar chords echo from the speakers at the far side of the room. A raspy woman’s voice starts singing an old song. Thick, red...

It’s chilly in the house, a hearth without its fire. The late morning sun is already up, giving wispy layers of bleak, grey light but not...

An old air conditioner is not enough to battle August heat in the Mediterranean. Its roar is deafening, without helping much about the...