Dr. Steven Wolfson sits up straight on the couch, awakened from his afternoon nap by the loud shook-clang of the garage door chain engaging below. Eliza is back home. He had fallen asleep in the extra room upstairs, which doubles as his office. The house shakes as the door gurgles open along its rusty brown…

We had become the frenzied offspring of Jackson Pollock and Carl Sagan, flicking billions and billions of neon-green stars across the black canvas of the football field. Michael's mother had sent him to the party with a supply of glow sticks she had bought on sale at the Dollar Store. Michael never opened the bag…

I scan the field for wildflowers as the Texas sun scalds the back of my neck. I'm looking for potential transplants that would look pretty in the front garden. With every passing year, Cody and I crave more vivid colors. He says our eyes are growing dim and we need more brightness and contrast. Makes…