Meeting Silvia

Pneuma

Five clay whistles, brought to the lips, transform a single breath. A simple note, again and another, begin to form a melodic song, pulled from the earth. Soon a plaintive…
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The Cookie Tin

My neighbors and I took many trips with the little red wagon down Main Street to Silvia's garden, a bedraggled crew of dirt covered gardeners on a mission to save…
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Before I Knew her Name

Silvia's house sits halfway up the last rise before approaching the silos of an abstract red-on-white, mid-century cheese factory that stands on the edge of town and draws thousands of…
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