Category: Throwback

Author Note: I wrote this short story back in high school–it may even have been my first! Let’s see if it’s any good. The bow slapped over lazy waves. Sea batted his side. He spat and shivered. It was cold, tart, nauseating. His immediate thought was industrial runoff or the Charles. By now salt crusted…

Author Note: I wrote the following short story in high school. Let’s see how it holds up! November, 1885. “I do not pry, Miss Frances.” Priscilla Finch folded her hands, knuckles bared under fuchsia lace glovelettes. Eastern, Maude noted. Far and fashionable for an off-again-on-again camp. Since she stepped off the train two years ago, Maude Frances…