The Strange Recital

"Every night for months, ever since Emma’s death, I’d taken the same walk through the park, but this time, I went another way."

Is this how you bring back love? Or is it something much more twisted? By the way, what is coulrophobia?

"Albert slumped forward on his chair in the waiting room at the doctor's office. The floor had just stopped melting."

What do you do if you meet a king? And how do you get to the Land of Perpetual Afternoon?

"I stand in white tennis shoes, as fresh sacrifice, outside double glass doors..."

Commerce or religion? Mundane or mystical? A glossy shrine as a gateway to a higher dimension... or not. Glimpse the true nature of... what?

"Amid fits of laughter and clouds of pot smoke, Dave and I would debate: Do thoughts have density? What is the weight of sadness, the volume of anger?"

Is this story a glimpse of a vast synchronistic web of invisible interconnections, or is it mostly a convoluted but loving tribute to John Lennon? You decide.

"In a land of reclaimed rivers, pulverized minerals and wheeler-dealers, were three men who formed a psycho-anarchic syndicate. They all desired the same woman."

Is there any meaning in the random intersection of lives? And what makes this story English? 

"You have come like an arrow to the target, flying towards your unmasking."

A woman's encounter with a strange old painting, and with herself... or selves. Do we all wear masks?

"The Halfway Café was almost empty. You might have thought it was a Monday night, but after you die, there are no Mondays, and no night."

A new angle on the afterlife.... Do our ancestors watch us? Why would they care if we mourn?

"Sunlight glistened across the lower Hudson and made mirrors out of the distant skyscrapers of Manhattan...."

A commuter train... invisible connections between strangers... music, silence, science, faith... a shared destiny. This is a thoughtful, richly observed story about living now -- followed by a compelling author interview.

"I can remember the time when the centaurs still used to come down to the market...."

A beautiful story of an ancient race of beings, told by a woman who has lived for many years in Greece.

"Benson Randall awoke one morning with someone else's memories..."