On Wednesday, October 24th, I and a number of other writers will give public readings of our work at the New York Society Library in Manhattan. I tell you this not because I expect all my blog’s readers to show up at the library, but to give context to the search I conducted this week… Continue Reading
Author Archives: Sidney Stark
Her Choice
She couldn’t go home; not yet, anyway; not without an emotional buffer zone. Discovering her grandmother’s letter inside the old dictionary on her shelf at the office, had left her floating between two worlds; the now, and the then at the start of World War I. She remembered the letter vaguely, but hadn’t read it… Continue Reading
Will You Be Here?
“Will you be here Thursday?” I was hoping for one more lesson before she had to leave. She turned slowly to face me; that is, if ducking her head as if preparing to run away was facing me. “No; I’m sorry, I’m leaving on Wednesday,” she said, pulling the sleeves on her shocking pink, form-fitting… Continue Reading
People-Watching
Turn, Amaryllis, to thy swain…Alex Van Buren sang the old part-song under his breath. Prancing a coltish crow-hop at the start of each phrase, he seemed a tall, fledgling golden palomino; simultaneously graceful and awkward, with a pale mane of healthy hair and promise of strength to come. Casual observers noticed and smiled. Balmy weather… Continue Reading
Cut Crystal
The last time I saw my father, he was sitting in that huge wing-chair of his with a glass of “the good stuff” in his hand; “the best stuff money can buy,” he said; as usual. Even then, so many years after my coming-of-age trip to Israel, I was still focused on the crystal tumbler… Continue Reading
Oh Maggie
Wake up, Maggie, wake up! The little girl cried out to her mother; loud enough to be heard but not to shock. She climbed on the windowsill and opened the blinds to deliver her message. We’ll miss the bus and be late for school again if you don’t. Oh-h-h, her mother groaned, tossing a forearm… Continue Reading