The Bitter Oranges of Jacob Breslin, by Amber Gallant

We thought maybe Papa had gotten the idea from a book. For months he spoke of nothing but the wine-hearted solitude of the place, quoting Robinson Jeffers, while I racked my thoughts trying to remember which of my library books I’d left on the kitchen table at home, what he might have riffled through while I was at school on Bay Street. It wasn’t that Papa didn’t have imagination. We’d just never seen it spill out of him so suddenly. Like lanterns lighting up at dusk, one after another so that globes of yellow waltzed down the road.

Read the full story here: https://cross-stitch.blog/2019/02/03/the-bitter-oranges-of-jacob-breslin-by-amber-gallant/

Goose, by Chase Boisjolie

“The trees look funny,” said Laura North, who was struggling to keep up with her mother as they walked downtown. “ Why do they look like that?”

“I told you, baby. It’s fall. They do that every year. They did it last year, and they’ll do it again next year, too. Now please stop asking me that, it’s driving me––

Read the full story here: https://cross-stitch.blog/?p=106