Morning Train to Paris
The small boy took a bite out of the doughnut he held in one hand and extended the remainder of the half-eaten, chocolate-glazed circle toward Sylvere. The boy, who was seated on a yellow...
The small boy took a bite out of the doughnut he held in one hand and extended the remainder of the half-eaten, chocolate-glazed circle toward Sylvere. The boy, who was seated on a yellow...
Sylvere opened the back door of the small car, placed the saxophone enclosed in its case on the back seat, and closed the door. The air outside El Bulle Petite was fresh. He could...
“Watch where you’re going, Little Man,” Sylvere said, speaking in Kikongo and placing his hand on the head of the small boy. Sylvere stood next to the open drawer of his desk inside the...
Esby looked away just for a moment from the streams of cars with the image of her face appearing before his eyes. The digital watch strapped to his left wrist showed 7:15, its round...
Sylvere placed his saxophone next to its case on the small stage, walked to the bar, and sat on a stool near one end, staring into the black, heavy night. Outside it was hot...
Europe / Russia / Travelogue
That night on the boat I finished reading the yellowed pages of Notes from the Underground. I looked over the railing of the ship’s upper deck into the Moscow River, feeling the warm June...
Europe / Russia / Travelogue
Johanna had been waiting for this moment a long time. A day before, the 40-year-old woman from Holland had talked about her love of Russian literature. Earlier that day, she had mentioned she studied...
Europe / Russia / Travelogue
It was somewhere on a bridge over a canal in the middle of Moscow. We realized Igor wasn’t there. Standing on the steel and concrete path above the water, the seven of us looked...
That evening in June the air was warm. I wore a short-sleeved shirt and a pair of Bermuda shorts; my companions, too, dressed lightly. But I, like the others, carried a small umbrella. Also,...