Archive for about 100 words


During the Vietnam war, Danny served as an Army medic—in northern Italy. The most dangerous thing he did, he joked, was administer first-aid to officers’ wives who’d sprained their ankles while skiing in the Dolomites. Later on he worked for a man who had been intelligence specialist in ’67, stationed along the wall at Checkpoint […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, July 2nd, 2008

Fat Girls

Mary’s mother always said, “Fat girls can’t wear white.” Save for her christening dress, and her First Communion dress, Mary didn’t, until she left for nursing school. She worked nights, her quiet measured pace and steady presence a comfort to patients and reassuring to the staff. “I want that nurse in white,” some querulous old […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Saturday, June 21st, 2008

The last president of Texas

The last President of Texas lies in a peaceful, leafy park decorated with fine marble carvings of weeping angels, children, and lambs. Left behind and overlooked in the exuberant thrall of statehood, he died by his own hand. “Of a broken heart,” others said. On pretty days, runners pass in and out of the grounds, […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Saturday, June 21st, 2008

The best day of his life

During a baseball game on a balmy night in late June, with runners on first and second, the batter hit a hard line drive straight into Charlie Ben’s glove. He backed onto second base to force another out, then tagged the bewildered runner between first and second base for an unassisted triple play. Charlie Ben […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Saturday, June 21st, 2008


Finally, he stopped reading her magazines. It wasn’t worth the aggravation. She had no respect for his bookmarks, and she didn’t even read the articles in order anyway. She skipped around willy-nilly, refusing to start at the front and read through to the back. How on earth she ever read a book was a mystery […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, November 29th, 2006

High Fidelity

“Would you,” she asked, then paused, “make a cassette tape from my Gene Harris CD, so I can play it in my car?” “Oh No! That’s just wrong. No.” “Ok. Then I’ll do it.” “No you won’t. You’ll make hash of it. You won’t figure out the times, won’t start and stop in the right […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, June 21st, 2006

Every Day

Asa Miller is up early, shaved, dressed, and ready for breakfast by six. Mrs. Miller likes to sleep in, and that’s fine, because if she’s awake she’s talking, and he enjoys the early morning quiet. He eats an egg, and two slices of Mrs. Miller’s delicious wheat bread. At seven, he carries his flag outside […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Wednesday, June 14th, 2006


Virga. It was the dirtiest word Buck knew, even after a career in the Army. He stood on the back porch and watched the blue-gray clouds pass in review, saluting him with virga. If it didn’t rain soon, he’d have to sell off the rest of the herd, and he didn’t know how to tell […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Tuesday, May 30th, 2006

North Light

It was an awkward house, but the entire north wall was covered in windows, revealing a grand view of the bay. “I’ll take it,” he told the realtor, “today.” “Don’t you want to look upstairs, or in the kitchen?” she asked, because the house had been on the market a long time. He began painting, […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Tuesday, May 16th, 2006

The Bus

The New York City bus passed by the farm every evening at 5:50. But it was safer maybe, to catch the morning bus to Los Angeles. Marcy thought about no snow, palm trees, and aqua-white surf on golden sand, but decided finally that without a car, it would be easier to live in New York. […]

Posted by: Deborah Hendrick on Tuesday, May 9th, 2006