Stories,photos
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I read too much meaning in everything, I know it. So, I am searching for the significance of one single blossom, which I am eyeing to pluck and put in a vase to stare at come breakfast, … more
Once upon a long time ago, in my boyhood, we burned firewood on our hearth here at home. Especially on Sunday evenings. We boys gathered sticks as kindling from the fallen branches of the … more
They were my Yale classmates and roommates long, long ago.  I took the train to New Haven for a trio reunion/rendezvous on a fine fall day, with egrets on the blue water under the azure … more
The numbers on our street don’t make obvious sense: our house hides in plain view. When those trucks bearing cartons have a delivery for number 12, the drivers give up in despair and … more
Through amazon.com  – not a bookstore – I was able to access “The ‘Normal’ Child,” the self-published autobiography of an old acquaintance, Cindy Halpern. … more