Fiction Features

“Come join me.” 

For two nights in a row, Adam resisted her call. 

It was a Sunday in August, and he stood by the open window in his second-floor bedroom, overlooking the forest behind his house. The past eight months, a FOR SALE sign had been staked in front of the forest. . . .

The problem is that where once—thirteen days ago, let’s be specific!—I had a wall of glass to sit in front of every morning and view nature—birds and woodchucks and squirrels and so forth which I happily fed and, in summer months, watered—now I have a wall of books. . .