The 40-Year-Old Marigolds” is a personal essay that ties gardening in childhood to the present day. It has themes of family ties, nature, nostalgia, and the bridge of place and time.

As Special Agent in Charge of this District, my years following leads and writing investigative reports were behind me. Now, one part of my job is delivering this investigative file to the D.A.

First, they stood. Right beside each other. “It’s in the air,” she said. “See?” He looked, but he was either unsure or unwilling.

Konrad picked up his lance. When the judge gave the signal, he aimed his weapon at his adversary and opened the valve that allowed the steam to flow into the piston. His armored motorcycle shot out across the tiltyard seeking to ram Baron von Kobell

I’m actually looking forward to staying the night in an old castle.” Courtney glanced up the High Street. “I was told about the beauty of Broadway and I have to say, they were right. It certainly does take your breath away.”

The old farmhouse had idled on the market ever since the previous owners had died in a freak fire. Investigators had suspected arson but never uncovered evidence.

Taking in my garden, the wild space surrounding it, full of Spanish grasses and the song of a meadowlark echoing over it, I realized, not for the first time, that I had been very fortunate in the place I lived as a child, some forty years before.

Dr. Vandermeer laughed. First to himself because he was a true capitalist. Then out loud because he simply wanted to.

The dinner invitation was totally unexpected since Josiah Gorgas had not heard from his high school and college buddy Austin Ervin in well over a decade.

“Are you sure you’re ready, Melvin?” She paused. “What happened the last time wasn’t your fault.”

“We could go to Principle Martin’s office right now. An offense like this would lead to a week suspension at best. Pick up the pen and write.” I sighed and wrote, “Montgomery Sanchez. May 29th, 2005.”

The forest looked ethereal in the light from the moon overhead. Ghostly, eldritch, like Dave had stepped into another world. The branches swayed with a slight breeze, and the leaves rustled out a mellifluous harmony.

The first thing any physicist learns about traveling faster than light is that it is impossible.

That afternoon, she still believed that her father had not meant what he had done. Once the black cloud had lifted, as it always did, he would come to his senses and beg Mum’s forgiveness.