by Warren Gaston | Dec 15, 2020
It was raining in the city. It was too cold to be raining. Snow had been predicted, almost guaranteed. The temperature: fifteen degrees below freezing Fahrenheit. And it was raining, not snowing, in the city. The sky was hysterical, trying to sort itself out. Clouds...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 14, 2020
I want you to see for yourself. What does it look like? It is what it is. Draw your own conclusions. No explanation from me. You think more description would help. You want me to give you more clues. Twenty questions. Details. Color? Shape? Hot or cold? Is it...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 12, 2020
It was great, the morning, the east sun stark raving pink through the trees, and the night kittens, full of fresh electricity, batted the fern just brought into the house from the patio because of cold. The yard didn’t stay pink for long, the sun, climbed into the...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 10, 2020
To the dance . . . I was seventeen, and Sarah, sixteen, was willing to go with me, a drive through hard falling snow in the valley beneath mountains, wipers clearing an arced path through hoary darkness. A mountain of responsibility on my adolescent shoulders, life...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 8, 2020
The sun bemoans to the moon its ignorance of dark “I have seen so much, but not much past twilight, never past midnight, always in daylight.” “There is much to be seen in the dark,” the moon says to the sun. “I’m sure,” the sun sighs. “You have the benefit of...
