Flash Frog

The year the sinkhole opened behind Marla’s house we were already halfway through the brisket and three handles of vodka, the folding tables bowing under deviled eggs sweating in paprika, the kids ricocheting between the trampoline and the inflatable pool while the dogs patrolled…

She thinks the universe is mostly errands. Dog thinks it is mostly smells. This seems like a disagreement, but it works. At Edgewater Park, the lake is doing its big quiet pretending-to-be-calm thing, which makes her trust it even though she knows better. Dog…

Three knocks at the gate. I look at my son, Tristan, and whisper, “Think it’s safe?” “That’s the signal,” he says. “Then see who it is.” He slides the couch cushion open, allowing in some living room light and releasing some morning breath from…