by Ryland Louvierre It was six o’clock on an unseasonably warm Saturday evening in February. The birds had gone to their nests, replaced by bats that swooped low in the wood meadow, and Cleve rose stiffly from his position in the pecan tree. A grapefruit sun was setting, casting oblong bars of…
By Loren Mayshark A blustery, white January day on Dutch Hollow Road in western New York. I was a benchwarmer freshman on the junior varsity basketball team in a school with about two hundred students. This meant the team was composed of both freshman and sophomore players, and I’d had…