Eternity must be more like radio than TV.

A man angles a pizza to his hip, a small boy in the crook of his arm.

Lady Luck hasn’t made house calls since the robber barons tore the levy down.

Here’s a broad who plays you to the marrow of your bones.

He was an amazement of fitness poised for flight.

There is whimsy in perception.

What were we to them?

My husband ever shoring up resources in trying times.