A Brief For The Defense

It was the last week of October. David Sanborn and his wife Claire were driving away from Philadelphia on Route 1, heading out towards West ...

You emblazon into our space bundled like an Inuit against the cold, Or draped and laconically unfurled like an orchid blossomed in the humid...

There’s a point in life, and I think almost all of us reach it, where you realize, bluntly and with a cold finality, that you are not going ...

Jacob Webster felt the thrill of anticipation approaching like the nighttime glow of city lights on a fast horizon. Waiting on the empty tar...

These are some vignettes I have that I presently haven't been able to work into any other larger pieces but that I kind of like: On 10th...

One afternoon early in November, David Sanborn was raking leaves with his son, Michael. It was the type of afternoon that made one think of ...

Justin was coming out of the Starbucks on 10 th and Chestnut. A woman, walking quickly around the corner, bumped into him, spilling his cof...

The village, who’s name David has long since forgotten, was somewhere in Spain, not quite in the mountains but not very close to the Med...