by Peter Grandbois

We rise to the spongy heat of summer, throw off our sheets and run downstairs to fill our bowls to the brim, cool milk spilling over. (more…)

by Peter Grandbois

The lamp on the hallway armoire is unplugged, so the stairs leading up to the room are in darkness.  As a result, we can’t remember the last time we went there.  We don’t know why someone doesn’t simply plug in the light.  Why we don’t.  Perhaps it wouldn’t work.  Maybe the bulb is burnt out.  Maybe there’s no bulb at all. (more…)