Chestnuts and Memories
November of my youth slid down the mountain clothed in fog and breathed its icy breath over the streets of the downtown…
November of my youth slid down the mountain clothed in fog and breathed its icy breath over the streets of the downtown…
War! Again! Can we not tell a story without war? Without conflict? Without bloodshed? I picked " Hollow Kingdom &q…
A ghost story for small ghosts, goblins, and tiny ghouls (*I wrote it exactly 10 years ago; today seems to be the perfe…
The year is sometime in the early 1990s, perhaps 1993 or 1994. I’m a photographer working for an American news agency a…
I met with an old friend recently. He’s a photographer. He WAS a photojournalist, but now, with a sad smile, he describ…
We used to greet tourists as explorers, adventurers, and welcome guests. So, what happened? I love to travel. Always …
I want to tell you about the kind and charitable tradition of buying a coffee for a stranger which originates in Naple…