If Sylvia Had Answered the Phone
after Dr. Hook’s “ Sylvia’s Mother ” I thought her mother would answer. That’s how long it had been. So when Sylvia said my name I held the phone tighter than I meant to.
The French Café
a polyptych of what may have happened after the Martini in Nancy Wilson's Guess Who I Saw Today Prologue: On Reflection Some stories never end - they fade, spoken softly under lamplight, where truth enters quietly, like a draft beneath the door. This one follows three people bound by a single evening: a husband, his wife, and the woman who loved him elsewhere. Their lives unfold not in argument, but in echo - through glass, through memory, through the long light of forgiveness. Each voice stands alone, yet their silences overlap. Like ligh…
While the Guitar
I look at you all, see the love there that's sleeping While my guitar gently weeps. - The Beatles I didn’t expect my body to react first.
