by Craig Beaven | Nov 19, 2013
In a city without winter the leaves don’t change-and-fall, they merely fall, without fanfare, without meaning. I was afraid to move here, where we knew none of the 4 million, and had no place to stay. The storm is just off the coast 40 miles away. It is passing across...
by Craig Beaven | Oct 10, 2013
What we remember most was never real: there was never a white van but we feared it. Yes, he was shooting, but no van, and it wasn’t white, why did we say otherwise? You had to factor it in, avoid places by the interstate within eyesight of a clump of trees. We had...
