I just poured myself a glass of wine. When writing (or reading, or doing just about anything that doesn't involve physical activity) I think it's best to drink something, preferably something with a naturally-occurring drug in it.

I recently flew home from Vermont, back to Denver, after being away for a week. I picked up the SkyMall magazine from the seatback in front of me -- you know the magazine, the one with kinetic watches next to decorative pots that double as litter boxes next to a hot-dog-bun toaster.

 

So, this morning I sit down in one of my "go to" spots to crank out a 10 item to-do list that I emailed myself late last night. (I know, sad when you are emailing yourself). Due to the loud talkers that frequent this "go-to" (a coffee house that will remain nameless), I tend to throw on some headphones in order to focus. Well, of course, I remove them for a moment only to find

Short stories.  Most of us read them in high school or college and rarely pick up an anthology again.  Yet, short stories are the way we talk to each other, the way we communicate.  Not long ago I sat at my dinner table with a friend as he recounted

My wife and I drove home from Colorado Springs yesterday.  We watched the fireworks the night before, from