Below you'll find a list of all posts that have been categorized as “Short Stories”
Let’s take a little stroll down Concord Street from the corner of Grand Avenue, kitty-corner from the Stockyards National Bank where one day in the 1930’s John Dillinger rolled down the window of his getaway car and asked my grandmother, Nana to us, Cecile K. Dohan to the rest of the world, the proper directions to pursue. Nana was too …
This is Memorial Day. It has come to have many meanings for many. It is the remembrance of those lost in battle. It is also regarded as the first day of summer, a season of warmth and relaxation, days of lingering light in the evenings and sunrises that beckon the welcome of another golden promise. This is a day of …
I drove up and over Snoqualmie Pass yesterday, up and over Blewett Pass, and down into a valley at once familiar and foreign. I have made the trip many, many times but there is a fading quality to it now; where once I belonged I am now again a stranger. But there is something that inexorably draws me and even …
We drift now back in time as we near the Day of the Dead. We remember. We must remember, however clouded our recall. We are on a 747 headed for Japan. We have filled the plane with our desire for adventure and for our love of whales, and the hope, however vain, of committing some kind of demonstrative, compassionate act …
This is a long short story. At its core is the theme of salvation, which is the problem we all must deal with and the setup Pandoraa’s Box has left us. Hope springs. Even in the face of death and the chaos of emotion. Hope springs. Don Lanphere played the saxophone. That is a simple statement but I cannot think …
Let’s roll back the years or at least roll back with them. I have been remiss in giving credit where it was most do at the beginning of my career and I need to not only pay respect but appreciate a kindness that in my hungry years I overlooked. I want to tell you about Jerry Dennon. But before I …
I listen for the whistling calls of the eagles and await the clarion caws of the crows in return. I have little hope for the outcome but that doesn’t prevent my vigilance of the scene. It began a month or so ago. We looked up to see a flight of a dozen herons or more. (It’s called a siege of …