It all began with the hummingbirds, sir.
Yes, Mr. Grant, I’m serious. I awoke in plenty of time to get to work by 8:30, but as I got out of bed, I heard a noise outside and peered out my window.
No, not my boyfriend’s window. I was home. I have a hummingbird feeder located right outside my bedroom window, and the hummers come every early morning and then at dusk.
I’m trying to tell you what this has to do with the fact that I was two hours late, sir, I am getting to the story. Continue reading
The chimes persisted. As I tossed and turned in my bed, sheets askew, a sheen of sweat layered on my body, I really couldn’t tell if I was imaging the tiny tinkling sounds, or if they truly existed.
I’d watched the clock sneak slowly across its yellow-lit globe: 1:01 a.m., 1:10, 1:21, 1:44, 2:01, knowing I should make my eyes stay shut. Surrender to sleep like a bear surrenders in his winter cave. But I felt more like a fox, wide awake in the sleeping hour, needing to explore and hunt in the starry night. Continue reading
At first, they were all silent.
After all, they’d been alone before, on what the “Others” called “weekends.” And sometimes they were alone for a longer time when a particular Other went away on something called a “Vacation.”
But they’d never been left for this amount of time. And they’d never been all together in one large room. Continue reading
“I think we need to return,” he whispered in her ear. An ear he knew so well, shell-shaped and as pink as a wish.
“No!” she protested. “We’re safe here. Let’s just roam.”
His smile, small and protective, told her everything she needed to know.
“It’s okay, you know. It’s okay the way things are,” he assured her. Continue reading
“I can’t quite believe this,” the specialist exclaims.
These are words I like to hear from my agent when she’s scanning my just-written manuscript.
But they are not words a doctor should express to a new patient after he has taken a biopsy of a gland that popped out of nowhere on an until-now rather nondescript index finger. Continue reading