Mara
Some days the sea was all brute force. A throaty, roaring blast. It slammed its weight…
Some days the sea was all brute force. A throaty, roaring blast. It slammed its weight…
My older sister Elizabeth said she would come to my Christmas Eve dinner – if I…
“Mom, the woman will be here at 11:30. Are you ready?” “What’s her name?” the…
That autumn there was such a simple elegance to my own devastation that I didn’t think…
Papà finally agrees to look at the backyard shed from a distance, from above, from the…
“I want revenge,” Franceschina says to Concetta. “Bastardo,” Concetta…
La Playa was the beach that Costanza’s father frequented as a boy. He had told her…
The baby fig tree finally found a home. The scion survived in a flowerpot through the…
“Oh Lord, where did I go wrong?” I say. “You’re stealing my line,” Mom says,…
He calls me il vagabondo because he never knows when I will show up to visit. I have…