A Man Forbid by Jon Sindell

  “Sleep shall neither night nor day Hang upon his penthouse lid. He shall live a man forbid.”   ~ Weird Sister, Macbeth     Soil rich black and moist yearned like woman awaiting the seed. The sleeper’s lips trembled as the dreamer beheld a single...

Dough Boy by Jon Sindell

At nine years old, he was Duke for a day. “Where are you going, Mikey?” A note of alarm wormed into Mom’s voice. Three weeks since moving to their new home, he had not ventured out. “I’m Duke now. Goin’a play.” The conk of wooden bats falling hard on the asphalt, the...

Emerald Beauties (part two) by Jon Sindell

I was not the only girl hobo, I met quite a few. I learned to jump a freight and never had so much fun in my life. I’d hold the grip iron and stand at the open door of a boxcar so I could feel the wind blowing back my hair, which I no longer wore in pigtails, but had...

Emerald Beauties (part one of two) by Jon Sindell

The iniquities of the father are visited on the children to the third and fourth generation of those who hate g-d, our minister said. In the buckboard Aunt Em explained what iniquity meant, and I felt so proud to learn such an impressive word, for I was still small,...

Fig Tree Gazing by Jon Sindell

Morton Vickery needed a friend. Not a wifely friend, he had one of those, nor a soft-handed friend for discussing the market, there were columns of those in his accountancy firm. What Morton dreamed of, as he stared in the mirror and pressed palms together to make his...