My father wrote Mr. Blok at the prime of his illustrious cello career. I was very young and didn’t read the manuscript until last year. At some point many years ago I asked Papa why he didn’t publish it. “Because if I did,” he said, “both you and [...]
Reader Barbara E asks Joram if he has a favorite Inuit sculpture in his collection. It's a hard question to answer...
Reader Olivia asks, "What do you think of garden gnomes?"
Reader Jordan K asks, "If you could choose between the superpowers of flight or invisibility, which would you pick?"
Image by James Timothy Peters from Pixabay
He had waited all week to meet her, and now the time had come. The dinner reservations were made, he was shaved, his hair shampooed and carefully messed. This was his first date in over a year and his approaching fiftieth birthday scared him; he was ready, finally. Her blond hair glowed in the evening light and lay softly on her bare, pearly shoulders, revealing her thirty-something years.
