‘Till the fat lady sings

Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Here’s what she said to me… I had a friend, a slightly older chap, who had a young daughter – and would complain incessantly about how much OLDER he felt now that she was born. Besides the sheer weight of responsibility – very small children are soContinue reading “‘Till the fat lady sings”

Things that I can’t write about right now

I didn’t notice how I started crying. I had been cutting down a story about deaths in a Russian orphanage specifically designed for the children of female inmates – children born in captivity, like tiger cubs in a zoo (though tiger cubs generally get better treatment). Space on the page was limited, 300 words orContinue reading “Things that I can’t write about right now”