New Story: My Father’s Grave

Click below for this week’s story, or navigate the city through the direction buttons at the top of the page:

I never expected my father to move back to the city, but he was contrarian enough that he’d be dead before he did. So here he is. I’ll never forget the sight of my father, 90 years old, trying to lasso a goat. He wouldn’t have minded the Golden Corral in the midst of the cemetery, but I doubt he could eat “the Whole Buffet!” Click below for the story. He’d have liked it.