Aurora

The last night I slept soundly was the night before my wheezing father announced the succession.  He named me – his daughter – as his heir.  He hoped aloud that my brother would advise me faithfully.  The pulsing vein in Damian’s forehead suggested otherwise.  With one word my father had severed our fraternal connection more effectually than any witch’s curse. …

Old Whitworth

Old Whitworth, a seventy-year-old dentist who should have retired a decade ago, endured in the practiced removal of ailing choppers. Yet his fees were a pittance in post-war years, offering irresistible rates – if you weren’t too particular about the origin of his dubious credentials. Whitworth, white-haired, save for rounded bald spot, reddened by anger from a patient who didn’t …

Lowell Jaeger, Featured Author

Sugar-White Beaches Such a never-ending winter, these months of snow and ice and gloom.  We’ve lost long hours again today, pushing back last night’s leaden blanket of wet white, mounding piles shoulder-high, towering till they avalanche as if to mock our labors. The wind whips our cheekbones red and wet and raw, my wife and I, our shovels lufting slush, …