Day: June 20, 2026

Small Change

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excerpt

As he comes up off the beach road and turns into Andrews
Street,
he is surprised by voices. To his right, the spacious
yard of the Simone
place is crowded with people. Strings of lights from the trees to the
outdoor kitchen swing in the light breeze. He feels a twinge of discomfort.
If they should see him they will insist that he come in, and the moment
he has timed his return for will be lost… But no, they are surrounded by
lights, food, music; they are having a good time; they will not notice his
brief shape in the night.
As soon as he enters the house he knows it is empty.
There is a note on the kitchen table.
Dearest Rico,
We are all at the Simone’s across the street. Please come.
Your loving mother,
Andrea
He returns to the darkened living room and sits in the big, soft
chair. Should he go over and ask Marianna to come back with him? They
will want to know why. They will smile and wonder and tease and he will
have to admit… he will have to say… and they will make fun of him, they
will think he is a crazy kid.
He remembers that his aunt always practises
her piano just after
dark and as he consoles himself
with that thought he hears footsteps on
the gravel walk outside.
The door opens and Marianna stands for a moment looking
puzzled. “Rico!” she says, “What are you doing sitting here in the dark.
Didn’t you see the note? Oh, I’m so sorry. You must have thought we all
abandoned you.”
He gets down out of the chair. She comes to where he is standing
and gives him a hug. Without meaning to, he stiffens.
She backs away and
looks down at him, her head tilted to one side.
“What’s wrong, caro? Are you all right?”
He doesn’t know what to say at first, then he goes to the piano
bench and opens it. He takes out the papers he has worked on and holds
them up to her. Suddenly he feels very small, and scared and shy.
She reaches down and smoothes his hair.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763157

In the Quiet After Slaughter

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excerpt

She was waiting for a table in a Nassau restaurant, a frumpy, frazzled
woman with a peeling snout, saying to him, Haven’t I seen you
on the Sunrise?
They’d returned from the shore excursion together, he lugging
her shopping bags while she propelled her wheel-chaired mother
along the island’s potted beach road. Later that night she turned
up at the piano bar, drained a Mint Julep, then exited. Buddy
sought her out the following day. She invited him along to a lecture
on seabirds.
– Remember what the boss say, Sam cautioned.
The cruise line had always been ambiguous about the help fraternizing
with guests. Inappropriate friendships, as such romances were
called, could be cause for dismissal. But if shipboard dalliances
resulted in the booking of additional holidays— if a passenger went
home with a smile on her face—who’d complain?
This woman wore unfashionable clothes, sensible shoes and little
makeup. While others took elaborate measures to conceal
their weight, she flaunted hers. Had he passed her on the street
Buddy wouldn’t have afforded her a second look. Yet in her presence,
that sunburned nose, the nectar breath, she wielded the
power of a sorceress. For the first time in his life the piano player
was beguiled.
– This one, he confided in Sam, is different.
One morning over coffee he was doodling on a coaster. As though
in a trance, he wrote, Her eyes look inside my head and see everything.
He underlined the last word.
At the card table behind the engine room they had a diagnosis for
Buddy’s affliction: Man Overboard. It’s what they called it when a
player fell for a passenger. So named since a despondent Filipino
waiter, having been rebuked by a flirtatious diner, jumped from …

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562874

https://www.amazon.com/dp/0980897971


Wellspring of Love

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excerpt

The early morning sun shone into Tyne’s eyes as she steered her
Chevrolet at unlawful speed through the town of Emblem, and headed
east up the hospital hill. The cloudless sky foretold a spectacular June
day, but Tyne paid no heed. Impatiently, she yanked the visor down
to shield her eyes, and through her rearview mirror, caught sight of a
police cruiser bearing down on her, its lights flashing.
“Oh no,” she moaned aloud, “I’ve no time for this.”
She pulled to the curb and stopped, and the police car pulled up
behind her. With both hands grasping the steering wheel, she lay her
head on it in resignation. In moments, there was a tap on her window.
She looked up and cranked it open to face the young police officer.
“Could I see your license and registration, please, ma’am?”
Tyne produced both with shaking hands and waited while he
examined them. Without looking up he said, “Do you know why I
stopped you?”
She sighed. “Yes, I was speeding.”
“Fifteen miles over the speed limit, ma’am. Not good.”
“I know that, Officer, but I’m on my way to the hospital. My aunt
has just been admitted and I don’t know what’s wrong, and I’m very
worried, and ….” Tyne stopped when she realized she sounded silly,
as if begging for mercy, when all she really wanted was for him to give
her the inevitable ticket and let her go.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Cresswell,” he said as he handed the
documents back to her. “I’ll let you be on your way, but please be more
attentive to your driving. It isn’t going to do your aunt any good if you
end up in the bed next to her.”
Tyne saw a fleeting look of compassion on his face, and she smiled
in gratitude. “Thank you,” she murmured as he backed away from …

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562917

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763327

Straits and Turns

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excerpt

So, Mike went to the little shack, his kingdom for the next hour,
his isolation for the next hour, and after he fired up the burner and
shovelled some good shovelfuls of sand into the cylinder to let it dry,
a process that would take about ten minutes or so. While waiting for
the ten-minute process, Mike sat on his stool and tried to compose
his thoughts about what he could write for the next ten minutes, a
paragraph perhaps of his novel, which he had been trying to write
since his arrival in this huge country called Canada. Endless subject,
his book, which referred to his experiences in the new lands, what
he has lived up to now and other things that he imagined, images he
usually wrote on a piece of paper out of the roll they used to wipe their
hands, yet that didn’t stop him, since he usually re-writes everything
daily, using an old typewriter a friend of his gave him for free. An old
manual machine, yet good enough for the use he had for it, after all, a
free typewriter was always a good thing since it didn’t cost Mike any
money, which was very small and counted twice before being spent.
He started writing, in Hellenic, of course, still the only language
he could master in this country.
“Both of us were born close to different seas, mine was the blue Mediterranean
and yours the grey Pacific Ocean, yet we bleed the same red blood; we
feel the same inexplicable brotherhood, and we also feel the same grief in front
of sickness and disease. We haven’t walked the same paths, and we have never
worn the same shoes, yet we both follow the same ascent to the mountain top.
I, searching for the land with the asphodels where the blessed ones exist while
you search for your tear and its meaning before the orphan and the destitute,
Yes, we create the same footprints through the dark passages searching for the
song of the wind and for the shaking off the eagle’s wings before he commences
his soaring up in the sky, Yes, the same heartbeat guides us both when we hug
the old man and we love the same torch that lights the dark pathway before the
wind extinguishes it and we both feel the same nostalgia for beloved persons…

https://draft2digital.com/book/4250839#print

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763866
who float in the absence of sorrow…”