Stories and Paintings
“It is you,” he said. I didn’t know what to do. “Do you know who I am?” he asked. “Uh, yes sir,” I said. “I have a lot of respect for you, and if you could just let me explain—” “No, no. That’s not what I meant.” He peered at me. “You’ve been there recently, haven’t... Continue Reading →
I flew backward, or downward, in a freefall, and then came to a thudding halt. The light was gone, and so were the two crowds. I was on my bed in the apartment, my arms and legs thrashing about. Rory was trying to restrain me, and yelling at me to wake up. When I realised... Continue Reading →
A few days after I returned from China we went for the big score. It was a quiet Wednesday morning at the Museum, perfect for stealing a painting. At our apartment we readied our popes, getting them into their papal robes then putting a large overcoat and hat on each of them. That way, their... Continue Reading →
