In the short, six-hour day, the sunlight fades by mid-afternoon in the sitting room where Silvia is trimming the Christmas tree. Beautiful and majestic, it stands over twelve-feet high. Starting…
After my previous driving disaster, a friend offers to take me to Braintree, Vermont, where we are joined by the president of the local historical society, who becomes our knowledgeable…
At first, my phone call was harbored with deep suspicion. Why, the interest? She didn’t have time right now. She had nothing to say, even as she told me she…
It was his name, Henrik Visnapuu that came up in those first Google searches at the late-night, kitchen table, linking Silvia to a larger world unknown to me; a world…
On a stone bench, set back slightly from the bustle of the street, rests an old woman reading a three-cent newspaper. Unaccustomed to the liquid warmth of spring light, the…
Today is the third of November and the third anniversary of Silvia's death. This morning, I light a slender white candle for Silvia at my desk, watching its bright flame rising…
