Winter swept into an April night like a vapor, crawling under doorways and wafting itself into the air, chilling what it touched and...

‘A man could live for years in this swarming mass of streets and time and never be seen,’ Cooney thought to himself. The blinders that...

The glass was almost empty now, nothing but the crispy bits of ice chips floating in the final puddle at the bottom. Donal Mannion...

"I’ve something to tell you, Gina.” Donal Mannion took a sip of his scotch, the pathway to his courage and the herald of his greatest...

It was along 14th Street on a hot summer’s afternoon, and Donal Mannion needed a drink. Donal Mannion often needed a drink these days,...

There are fourteen river Gods in Ireland, though, in typical Irish style, one of them is the God of the Atlantic Ocean. Of these Gods...

A clear day it was with moderate heat under a sky broken with the occasional cloud and a breeze that came and went just long enough to...

In early April in 1994 a missile shot up from the hillsides near the Kigali airport and brought down a small plane holding Juvenal...

Gina Morelli shut the clasp on her carry-on bag, a scarf no longer needed in the warmth of the bar tucked next to a gathering of...

Matt Cooney paused at the window of a three-room flat, a cluttered, disjointed space of failing plasterboard and exposed wires. He...

A cold night, one of the coldest he could recall, and cursed by a wind that whipped and snapped off the river to rob all feeling from...

We walk now in the coldest, the cruelest of winters, this winter, with its deep sorrows. But it will not always be this way, and we must...

Donal Mannion walked the afternoon streets of Washington in a dead humor. A leaden heart pumped his thick and dull blood through limbs...

Mark Murphy eyed the baseball game projected on the big screen television across the bar. He eyed his beer as he drank it down notch by...

We have passed the time for silence We have passed the complacency of safety and sanctuary. We can no longer convince ourselves that...

I spent Saturday morning embedding bricks into the muddy rim of our garden, the first layer of a decorative divider that would highlight...

I think continually of those who were truly great. Who, from the womb, remembered the soul’s history Through corridors of light, where...

Those who educate children well are more to be honored than they who produce them; for these only gave them life those the art of living...

Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? - Mary Oliver, The...

A few weeks ago I headed up to New Jersey to attend a book fair, part of the wondrous new sensation of calling myself a writer. I spent...