we walked among Manet and Degas and Delacroix, we ran Gucci and Hermes through our fingers,

"I have nightmares," Lisa said. "All sorts of nightmares." They stopped walking. Lisa looked at him deeply.

The wind blew hard along the stretch of runway. The engines ground to a whisper, and then quieted. The stairs lowered. Soldiers in uniform, others in fatigues, soon filled the steps. Collars up agains...

I loved her. Not in the neon bright light, two a.m. sparkling pavement, uptown New York City way.

hair grown white brushed straight away

A car pulls up along the shoreside and a man in a suit and tie slides out to find the sand. The beach has quieted. A few surfers paddle hurriedly out to sea for a last run in the twilight. An older co...

some say she was born with a broken heart, unmendable by word or deed, and now armed

some imperious, red-lipped, salty-mouthed, others drift in gimlet-eyed diffidence,

She pushed the last button through, her fingers dallying over her heavy wool coat, her hair swept under her collar. She rapped on the door. Twice.