Comfort and Joy: Part V

Pyotr took my hand and we walked slowly back to our shelf to witness the family’s holiday. At the dining room doorway, he stopped and looked up.
“Do you know what that is?” he asked.
All I could see was a sprig of greenery with a red bow. “Holly? Ivy?”
“No, it’s mistletoe.”

Comfort and Joy: Part IV

The room glowed brighter as music filled the air. I could feel the excitement growing in the room from the music, our being together and knowing that it was Christmas Eve, the night when the real angels sang out the news for the very first time. I could hardly breathe.

Comfort and Joy: Part III

Choir of Angels: Part III It was just as well when the pretty angel rebuffed my attempt at small talk. Ernst and I had gotten out of the habit of conversation. And when was the last time I talked to a girl? For that matter, this was the very first time I’d ever even imagined…

A writer walks into a bar…

  And orders up a short story. And then another. True story! Where was I? Cafe Zoetrope in San Francisco. This flatiron shaped building near Chinatown and North Beach is owned by Francis Ford Coppola. I am drawn to it like the proverbial moth to a flame. It started as a newspaper office. Great filmmakers…