by Warren Gaston | Jul 21, 2020
There are churches where the Holy Spirit sleeps in a vase waiting for flowers. The bells don’t arouse him, neither the fusty hymns nor the sexless sermons nor pious feet shuffling toward the meal of bread. But when a bride comes before her nuptials, tickling him...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 18, 2020
I am at the beach. The sun is going down. Crimson fills the sky. A man comes up and asks me to leave. Is this your private beach, I ask? No, it’s public, he answers. Is this your private sunset, I ask? No, it’s public, he answers. Then what’s the problem, I ask? There...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 17, 2020
The elephant is reprehensibly couth, he eats what he knows with his nose and his mouth. You would never guess his delightful pursuit, because of his ponderous gray flannel suit, which gives the impression despite his great size, he’s more a businessman in a...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 15, 2020
At my window seat in an airliner high over what I supposed was Nevada I look out at the left wing pointing in the direction I assumed to be south. On the wing I see rows of rivets attaching silver skin to ribs and spars by workers I preferred to imagine were...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 14, 2020
And still, she couldn’t see the craft carrying her through life. If she wasn’t doing it, what was? An undetectable boat? Someone rowing. Not her. Or perhaps an invisible sail. That would make sense since the wind itself is invisible. One could not see the wind but the...
