For A Rainy Day
Love and trust and gentleness between two humans is rare. Love is rare and the expression of love is rare. I am grateful to you. -Iris Murdoch. The Green Knight.
Sundance Kid
The shaggy-haired boy has stopped his bicycle to watch a man on a machine unearthing blocks of cement. The boy plays with the strings from the hood of his sweatshirt. … Continue reading
A Small Winter Story in July
Phillip is so tiny for his age. Even among the Kindergarteners, he is miniscule. Heading out to play, he is about to wear his house-shoes outdoors. The kids are bundling … Continue reading
Another Love Story Where Nothing Happens
He is hustling across the U-Bahn station, but as he passes the elevator, he slows his pace. Then he shifts his path to head for the stairs. There is a … Continue reading
Screening
Emir, one of the men working at security, introduces himself. Polite, friendly, grinning and testing his English. Austrian airport security seems a long way from home. He asks about my … Continue reading
On Dogs and Tough Guys
The slim, green-eyed teenaged boy wears the now-typical skinny jeans, flashy shoes, and puffy black coat. He stands with his elbows out a bit, holds his arms away from his … Continue reading
On Finishing Up
The creation of something complete and whole, be it good or bad–and if it’s never entirely good, it’s very often not all bad–yes, the creation of something complete seems to … Continue reading
Solo
In the tiny café, one has to adapt to custom and share a table with a stranger. I receive a welcome from a woman with hip glasses and excellent posture. … Continue reading
Mr. Independent
A little boy in a blue t-shirt acts tough, strong, fearless. He clutches a toy truck low at his side and eyes the passengers on the train. His father sees … Continue reading
A Love Story At Just Over Five Feet
The elderly couple hunches together over their soup. They stay like this, heads tilted toward each other, even as they finish. The waiter reaches under the bridge of their gaze … Continue reading
Citation
She was widely read enough to appreciate my literary wit but not so widely read that she knew my sources. I like that in a woman. I could say things … Continue reading
Self-Defense
In Vienna, I terrify a little boy who offers me his seat in the bus. He has a yin yang patch and an American flag patch affixed his backpack. This … Continue reading
Among The Many Things I Can’t Say in Hungarian
In a Budapest shopping mall, I spot a boy with one bleached white eyebrow. The other is dark like his hair, like his eyes, like his gaze. I begin to … Continue reading
The Biblio-Commuter
The man’s briefcase lies across his legs like a desk and he rests his elbows on it. The U-Bahn stops, but he does not. He inhales, sits up straight, leans … Continue reading
In Bloom.
She had no expression ready for so direct a glance and with a sense of failure she fluttered and dropped her eyes. She wondered if she were blushing. She had … Continue reading
Under Lock and Dream
I left him to his envy. A colleague’s envy, when all is said and done, is the scholar’s one reward on earth. I didn’t tell him that in all likelihood … Continue reading
My Shaky Sarajevo Notes
So there is such a thing as too much Bosnian coffee, and I have sipped on beyond it. Tiny cup number four clatters in my hand—three were invitations at various … Continue reading
Men
It is a Turkish barber shop in Vienna. A lean, dark-eyed man smokes a cigarette, even as the barber lathers his face for a shave. The barber works around the … Continue reading
But You Can Drive Something Foreign…
For the very notion of homeland, with all its emotional power, is bound up with the relative brevity of our life, which allows us too little time to become attached … Continue reading
Fashionably Saved
The tiny girl with the Louise Brooks haircut watches herself in the window’s reflection. She addresses her father behind her in a set of seats–giggling that she can see him … Continue reading
The Nice Thing About Strangers 