Tag: airport
-
Strings
Melissa: This story stands on its own, but readers might be interested in my first encounter with Melissa, which can be found in story-form here, Melissa arches her back, stretching bare flesh against the quilting of her lounger, the better to observe a frisbee player on the beach. “He’s quite the Greek, isn’t he?”…
-
From the Night
In the pre-dawn of an English winter, it is among the world’s loneliest places. Here, few birds will fly and none sing at this hour. Awestern gale, damp and cold, rattles the scrub of a featureless landscape, finding its way into the bones of the unwary traveler. Few will travel here. Of a…
Frederick Anderson's Story Blog 