Author: Frank J. Tassone

snake rolled up by in moss by hiking trail 0

Encountering Two Snakes

The orange trail ascends Halfway Mountain. Yellow and brown elm leaves blanket the flanks of the path. As I say something to Mira, I jump with a start. Inches away, a black rat snake...

chinese food on table with chopsticks 0

Midday Meal

The bitter-sour flavor of hot-and-sour soup. The doughy texture of the fried dumplings. Fresh sushi. The tangy sweetness of General Tso’s chicken. The sweet, creamy deliciousness of soft-serve vanilla ice cream. No wonder the...

purple dawn over a tree line with a house 0

Ordinary Awakening

I nurse a cup of coffee at the kitchen table, staring out the storm door. The darkness will crack at any moment. Inky black will fade to a deep purple, before transforming into a...

teddy bear in the grass at sunset 0

Those Toy Crabs

The last line of sunlight on the western horizon. A ruffle of papers, the rattle of a ceiling fan. A memory of the plastic crabs that I had come to possess. Was it at...

black and white photo of a man with beard in black trench coat 0

That Black Trench Coat

The late 1910s. Grandpa Vuolo wore it on those cold days when he looked for work. It was black wool, fine as camel hair, with a raised collar and large button; the coat easily...

kitchen in early moring with the sun filtering in 0

Completing the Chore

The dishwasher hums, and the whooshing of its water drowns out the crickets. I eat my oatmeal out of Frankie’s Frosted Flakes bowl: not another clean one remains. warm aftertasteempty pill containersbeside bottles