Nicolas Flamel and the Parisian Housewives The grocer calls, ‘Madame?’, sees what her eyes tell him, what sorcery her order implies: a palimpsest in the marbling of the ham, a...

    Cola and Kvass Napoleon was here, the tour guide says. Distant forests shine copper and gold; the churchyards have plastic bouquets on each grave; a skinhead in combats gets off a bus,...

      Face Shades with The Moon It came to me as a vision out from the winter cold, to my belief I find it to be real. On a night with the moon pale as the river dipped in silver ink....

      Sunday   I. In shade is cold. I face the railway bank. Each fresh wet blade of lawn is trimmed. Birdsong, a distant plane and muffled train Augment the silence. Topmost limbs Of...

      Midnight at the Optician’s After hours, in the dark, the shop watches itself. Frames on racks ranged in rows — plastic, titanium, rimless — try to outstare each other. The...

    Last Taboo The one certainty in life. One word we dread to mention. Instead, he made frog noises caroled with the cygnus kicked off his wooden working shoes applied his foot to the...

      Fire lantern It’s a discredit to us, we humans, that when something moves out of the sky, something like a ball of light, we don’t see it. We catch a glimpse maybe, yes. But do...

      Sharpened Razor Tongue She always arrives late, twittering, apologies wrapped in a high-pitched parcel. Slithering to the head of the table, she places herself at the helm of...