W Is for Wet Concrete In the corner of the graveyard, not far from his church, Father Wernerus builds a concrete altar with niches. Before the concrete dries, he embellishes it with crushed purple glass, golden tiles. He sees in his designs clusters of grapes, ears of wheat. He imagines visitors who will come, and see, and beContinue reading “Two Essays by William Woolfitt”
Tag Archives: Writing
Dial-Up Days by Kathryn Kulpa
Once there was a Blockbuster on every corner, and from every radio Kurt Cobain sang about teen spirit. But Kurt was not a teenager anymore, and neither was I. We were a generation waiting to be named, a weak signal of discontent arcing our way across analog airwaves into a digital wilderness. In those daysContinue reading “Dial-Up Days by Kathryn Kulpa”
My Mother’s Only Reader by Jillian Luft
The remnants of my mother’s life fit neatly into the corner of a walk-in closet. They’re a modest inventory: five-mini cassettes, thirty-plus photo albums, a jewelry box containing a frustrated tangle of 14 karat gold chains and tennis bracelets, a couple of high school yearbooks, some salvaged Christmas ornaments and snow globes, a slim blackContinue reading “My Mother’s Only Reader by Jillian Luft”
SugarSugarSalt Magazine 