Teresa Wymore

Alter Christus

Maggie brushed her palms across the gray hair above Duncan's ears. She cherished the contrast between his boyish barber cut and his bristly old-man hair, between his soft skin and sandpaper stubble. As she pressed her lips to his cheek, she tasted the remains of...

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My Dark and Empty Sky

In the lulling hours of late afternoon, when my sons are with their tutor and my husband is at his office, I usually take tea and sit with my daughter watching the birds along the lakeshore, but not today. Today, my daughter is dancing with other well-groomed girls at...

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