I was that Yankee Bwoy in Brooklyn, commuting weekly to the Flatbush, Church Avenue, very West Indian part; eighteen months into...

By 6 o’clock I arrive home and fall into the couch. Our Pomeranian, already waiting on the couch, curls up on my chest; the digging of...

I am wearing lingerie when he enters my place. It’s late, one, maybe two, in the morning. My booty-call is a co-worker who decided to...

It’s Thursday, and it’s raining outside. The wind lashes sleet against my office window where I’m working on my second novel about a farm...

I don’t remember exactly what I was doing on January 11, 2007, because everything from that time blends together when I think of it now....

I had it saved on my laptop. I had it on my best friend's computer. I had it on a CD. I had it on a Zip disk. I had it on my external...

"...while he lives, man can always be different from what he has been until that moment--nay more, that he is in fact always more or less...