Category / Uncategorized

    Loading posts...
  • The Man Turning Left

    His name isn’t Furbo but it may as well be. We are in the car behind his car, on a two lane highway, with one direction of traffic each way.  We have…

  • Fifteen in the Mist

    The early spring mist of morning floated slowly past my window. I felt the delicious sensation of that deep rest that only comes from a wondrous long night’s sleep after a transatlantic…

  • The Marchesa on the Balcony

    I remember the first time I met the Marchesa. It was on the balcony of Arrigo’s brother’s house. Below us was that vast expanse of valleys and hill towns and fields spread…