Fict or Faction

All seven-and-a-half inches of him reclines against the punched-up pillow tucked neatly beneath the floral quilt on the daybed in the guestroom. He used to reside across the hall, in the more manly beige-and-mahogany room, a palette Claire acquiesced to when she and...

Last night we all came together on Lookover Lane to search for our next-door neighbor's Yorkie, who'd broken her lead. We didn't think she'd gone far as she's deaf, mostly blind, and severely arthritic, so we stayed close to our homes, looking in crannies and under...

On one of the last and hottest summer days in The Great Gatsby, Daisy asks, as the bored elite lazily sit around fanning themselves, “What shall we do with ourselves today, and the day after that?” To which Jordan, Daisy’s best friend, answers, “Don’t be morbid. Life...

When my husband’s older daughter, T, moved into her own place nearby, to help her save money – and to help us get ready for a yard sale – we invited her to “go shopping” throughout the house. After exhausting the two living floors, from the kitchen I heard boxes in...

It’s the dead of night on a city street. I am standing at a window, mesmerized by the spinning light of a police car, its colorful orb pulsing in the dark. Someone is in trouble and has called for help. I am several stories above the sidewalk and feel powerless. I...

In the 4th grade, we did our home-state project (New Jersey, in my case) with oak-tag charts and diagrams. In fifth grade, we were assigned one of the other 49 states (Arkansas, in my case). I don’t remember the big projects in sixth or seventh grades, but I clearly...

In preparation for our trip to Boulder, Colorado, for a week’s long “hiking vacation” (a term I found oxymoronic), we decided to practice on nearby Haycock Mountain. Of the single assault we made (yes, I said “assault”), I insisted on turning back about 30 yards from...

The way Mrs. Stevens handled this day was to first ask the boys to put their heads down while the girls skipped around the room, depositing white envelopes on desks. Then it was our turn. I’m pretty sure I made little flowers out of the i’s and l’s on the names of the...

For more than three decades I managed to escape cooking a Thanksgiving meal. Twenty of those years were always spent with the Silvermans, my former in-laws because, if you notice my middle (maiden) name, and their last name, the Christmas holiday was never an issue....

I don’t cook. Oh, I have my go-to meals, like lemon chicken, fried chicken, cinnamon-cumin-apple chicken, chicken soup, and shrimp scampi. You know how they say male balding skips a generation? In my family, so does the cooking gene. At almost 84, my mother still...