The Wish Master
I almost did not celebrate my own birthday last year. Not because I was sad. Not because I was alone. Because somewhere along the way I had quietly decided that making a fuss about my own birthday was something other people did — people who were more comfortable with being seen, more comfortable with asking … Read more
Nobody told me my grandfather was turning eighty. Not because anyone forgot. Because he had spent the previous fifteen years telling the family, firmly and repeatedly, that he did not want a fuss. No party. No cake. No gathering. He was practical that way — always had been. Birthdays were just numbers, he said. They … Read more
My uncle has everything. I mean that literally. He has the watch he wanted. He has the car he saved for. His house is exactly how he likes it. His wardrobe is full. His kitchen has every gadget known to mankind. He reads but already owns the books he wants. He travels but plans his … Read more