Strange Potion

This is a continuation of Strange Trio Redux.


The rain came down in the streets like an ALS ice bucket challenge from the heavens. Miss Hill shivered under the black cape.

“I hope this place isn’t very far!” she yelled. Ms. White didn’t seem to hear.

It wasn’t. After only a block of the cold water treatment, Ms. White stopped in front of a brick wall. “We’re here,” she declared. Continue reading



“Flying the friendly skies” is a bit of a jest when you spend your summer nights sitting. On the ground. In a darkened airport. A blast of air conditioning almost strong enough to fly a kite blowing down the concourse. Thousands of miles from home.

It gives you time to read. Think. People watch. Wait for the gate attendants next announcement in Pidgin Mumblese. Surprise! Your gate’s been changed. What’s this? The fifth time? Continue reading

A Post Card

If you knew Uncle Sal, the card made perfect sense. My uncle was a cabbie in New York. Boisterous and loud, he loved being the center of attention. Loved hearing his own voice, delivering one-line zingers so fast his audience couldn’t catch their breath. His laughter booming around the room like a cannon ball. Continue reading