(Eloise) Sometimes he looked at her in a certain way and it no longer seemed possible to speak. There were words right in her throat at the moment, climbing up her tongue and then slipping back down again and again like Sisyphus’ boulder. He led her to...
After the reading and dinner with an old college friend, she retired, as had become the custom, to the hotel bar. Here her company was a boyish bartender who seemed to be desperately trying to think up something witty every time he passed by her but was n...
She had honed her cast for years for one reason and one reason only. Scene: Chiasa, mild-mannered young Sansei, academically competent (even for an Asian—huzzah), prone to profanity, shorts a la jailbait, now wearing an Angels hat with the requisite ponyt...
It was a setting where he really should have known better, but nonetheless the prince insisted in generally referring to peasant women as baggage when he was out on his carriage rides. It was only a matter of time before one turned out to be a witch. Afte...
She lay on the bed for a few moments, trying to decide on the mise en scène. The responsibility here was immense. So windows cracked, rear door open, the incomparable tropical breeze. Thirty-second shower, gelid, enough for four efficient soap strokes. Pu...
Sunlight, the Pacific variety, was always death for her. Maybe something to do with her name—but probably not. Late in the day, when her skin glowed and released its stored warmth, freckles coming into existence over her nose like the stars above the hori...
