“Lady Luck,” Uncle Bob said after I finished a litany of complaints about my school. “Just you wait. She’ll sneak up with a couple of aces when all you’re expecting is another losing hand.” It was Sunday dinner, roast beef, which Bob never...
The Austin Zoo had been closed for an hour, but Josie was still waiting for her boyfriend in its oblong parking lot. She sat on her truck’s tailgate, watching the sky darken above the mesquite that cloistered the property. The air was sharp...
Nyibol had always breathed noisily when she had a cold. She would whistle through one nostril and wake up furious with her own little body, slapping the pillow, then glare at me until I laughed.
Abyssinians are to tabbies as caviar is to salmon roe: the expensive version. I was determined to find an Abyssinian as I walked the floor of The Cotillion Ballroom in Wichita, Kansas, on what was also Super Bowl Sunday.
