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Just Wind, And A Creek

Thanks to prison, he settled for sitting, munching applesauce doughnuts, and watching his candle burn. No bleeding-heart bullshit, no prayerlike mutterings, no beseechings or lamentations from Everett. He’d come a long way, after a long wait, to do a simple thing, so he shut up, sat down, and did it.

The Wasp Eater

The wasps looked the same dead as alive: you could be fooled by their sci-fi armor into treating them more warily than they deserved. That was why, when you slipped one of them into your mouth and the wings and legs dissolved and you silently rolled the hard skeleton over your tongue, you were swallowing fear itself.

Zen Failure

For many years while practicing Zen, I thought I was a failure. But as more years went by, I began to realize that failure is the heart of Zen. Failure is what Zen is about.

Never Let Me Down

He wanted me to know about the great and wild people he had met, the music he had heard, the crazy underworld places he had been. He needed to explain that, while being a junkie sounded bad to other people, it had been really wonderful for him.

Failure

A Boy Scout, an old friend, an excellent craftsman

My Death

President In My Heart

Lamb Of God

Robert came to my church when he was in his early forties. He was a short, stocky, shiny-faced man with glittering glasses and mind. And he was HIV-positive. He joined the church because he was preparing to die and wanted to die reconciled with God.

Missing The Obvious

A battered wife, a troubled cousin, an intent reader

March 1995

Just A Moment

The past rushes into the room, breathless, dressed in something outrageous she just threw together.