My Brother, Aaron, was married this weekend. Against their better judgement, him and his fiancee (now wife), decided to allow me to be their Master of Ceremony at their Reception. I hijacked the proceedings long enough to tell a short thing I wrote that morning. I hope for the very best for Aaron and Morgan. … More A Picture
Roma, Italia The early morning fog is heavy. It sticks to my sweaty skin. It is cold this morning, around ten degrees Celsius. Anna is sleeping in our small bed of an apartment only half a kilometre from the Vatican. I am walking to Piazza Giuseppe Garibaldi; it is a hill near the River Tiber. … More L’Ultimo
I wrote this a few years ago after watching a Nat Geo documentary on the death marches of the Nazis. In our current world wide political climate, I think it is pertinent. This story contains adult content. The dead remember our silence, the dead remember our apathy. Chaim drops his hat. And … More Our Own Damnation
I’m sick. It’s seven in the morning. My damned internal alarm clock won’t let me sleep this hangover off. It’s the only one I’ll have on this Island. I promise. I pace through the kitchen. I pace through the living room. I run to the toilet. I’m sick. It goes on like this for an … More No Ka Oi
The second video from our trip to Europe.
His little legs are too small for the chair that they put him in. He is a good boy and he lays his hands in his lap. His world of playing probably was never like mine, like yours. He is young enough to know only the sounds of war and fear. Today they came to … More Aleppo Boy
The geese are daring to stay on the beach for a little longer. They seem to stop here on this island for one more party before they fly away home. Don’t cringe, the winter will wait just a little longer. The bay is a shore of sand bordering the wildland. There are three giant, gull … More The Island
As we drive down the road to our next destination she stares out the window. The sun shines down on her hair and makes it glow. It’s normally brown, but when she’s in the sun for very long it highlights. The sun uses her as a tapestry to paint its own beauty. She becomes a … More A Tapestry, Painted
A homage to Lieutenant Henry and Miss Barkley, but mostly to you. It’s fall. She said that to me while the leaves fell onto our cars. The maple ones were beautiful red, orange and yellow. Everything else just was. “It’s cold here.” “It’s always cold here.” She didn’t say much and I held her hand … More Fall
This is a short blurb I wrote a few days after the infamous Paris Attacks in November of 2015. Anna and I were in Ireland when it happened. It was a terrible day. We visited Paris about a week after the attacks. It is a lovely city. German bombs from both wars couldn’t destroy Paris, … More La Marseillaise
