by Brad Richard | Nov 20, 2020
1. I’m trying to imagine you imagining me finding, at the bottom of a plastic storage bin— under clippings from your Daily Camera column, under stray snapshots of family I never knew, under rust-stained doilies and your baby shoes, your life spread out around me on...
by Brad Richard | Aug 28, 2019
1. Finally the war was over and we could go home but my wife was wary. Those houses? she said, watching the news. Those stores? schools? police? Fake. Don’t believe what you see. Childhood. Wasps twitching on honey cakes, and our game with the clay balls, hiding them...
