By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
by Jack King On a cold November morning, he made his first delivery. He stuck to personal shopping on the northeastern end of the county where forest-lined hills broke dense neighborhoods of houses on postage-stamp lots. The Hockstedtters’ place sat on a cul-de-sac. Lee donned his mask, pinched the clip…