Campfire Stories

One summer evening, after the sailboat is anchored and the campfire lit, they watch the beam from the lighthouse at the end of the pier.  Sit on the beach near the fire.  The girl and her siblings, all five of them and her mother with curled brown hair and the father too,  put marshmallows and…

The Wolf

I have never seen a wolf.   Not in the wild.  My dad did.  Once.  Up north, as they say, in the boundary waters.   We kids were all asleep in the tent when he woke to cook trout caught the night before. And to smoke cigarettes.   Just him and the rocks and an early morning mist. …