cullendowlong

Foggy Memory

When I was little, my parents and I lived in San Francisco—half a continent away from the rest of our family, and sometimes it felt half a world away. Over holiday visits I examined them like some kind of social experiment, trying to figure out what made them so different from my parents and me.Continue reading “Foggy Memory”

At the Bughouse Bean

In Chicago, in the middle of the Gold Coast neighborhood, is a little park so calm and forceful in its sheer greenness that its very existence in the heart of a forest of iron, glass, and stone skyscrapers gives one the very impression that this park could very well be the heart of the neighborhoodContinue reading “At the Bughouse Bean”

Martin, Lauren, Meredith

I. Martin There’s something about Simon that I just can’t figure out. It buzzes around at the back of my mind every day when we’re sitting in the usual spot. I don’t have the slightest idea what it is, though it’s not even really the sort of thing that I would waste my free hoursContinue reading “Martin, Lauren, Meredith”

Simon

Martin sat with his face tilted down toward the mug clutched in his hands. He felt the coffee steam wash over his face as he took a long drink. On this cold morning he was grateful for the little bit of warmth that spread through him with that first sip. He sat in his usualContinue reading “Simon”

First Steps

Martin woke earlier than normal and groped in the dark for his bedside table. His fingers brushed against Alice’s picture frame as he reached for the braille clock, probing for the raised digits. The clock had been one of many gifts given to him by well-intended friends who wanted him to know that they stillContinue reading “First Steps”