an old writer and his words

  • RECONSTRUCTIONS

    Night descended on herlike an elevator untethered,her memories in freefall into darkness.She could not forget the storiesthe elder ones quietly told,the numbers always clothed over,their smiles forced or freely given,depending on the directionof the ever-present winds of emotion.She knew she was a prisoner of her past,her inheritance both joys and horrorsinterwoven into the fabric of…

    Lou Faber

  • CHARLESTON, WV

    Half of me, according to the twistedstrands of deoxyribonucleic acid,has its roots in Liskovo, which would bea simple matter were there not townsby that name in Poland and Belarus,and none in Lithuania, the language of my genes. All of this is preparatory to my visitnext week to the city where my mother,grandparents and great grandparentsare…

    Lou Faber

  • SKYWARD

    It was a Thursday in August when he first noticed it. It was an unusually cool day, not the sort you’d expect in the middle of summer, but he knew the weather was ever more unpredictable. He was certain it hadn’t been there the day before, but he was surprised it was still there the…

    Lou Faber

  • MITOCHONDRIAL

    I always imagined it would somehowbe romantic, not in the Hollywood sort of way,but in an idyllic, picturesque manner,even if that denied basic reality.Reality, when it comes to origins discoveredis overrated, for the normal percolation timeis denied, and the impact is suddenwith no restraints to temper the blow.Way back when, you learned by storiestold by…

    Lou Faber