The ritual demands the usual sacrifice. A young man or a young woman or one…

My letters are disturbing to the Queen. She reads too much into a mumbler’s toss.…

The well-fed Aryan babies squat and squeal above the fifteen plastic inches of Madurodam's toytown…

Goddess of the tidal basin, rising wingless through her aquamarine world, the intervening surface oiled…

Her dress floated round her, spread on the shoulders of the slowmoving murk. For those…