Marshall

Safari

The elephant padded implacably towards us on the dirt road. Rafael, our guide, put his finger against his lips, the “Shhh” understood. Our Toyota Land Cruiser, engine running, sat in the middle of the dusty trail.

Africa by Duffel Bag

“How about an African safari?!” challenged the auctioneer. I smiled, home free. Herself was strictly a first-world enthusiast, favoring toilets that worked, old world charm, and cultures with a romance language.

Dealing with the Past

For decades, our household had two tenants hanging around rent free: Sarah, my great-great grandmother, and her grandmother, Elizabeth.

We, the Jury

At the building entrance prospective jurors shuffle through a channel of tapes leading to the security check. Many peer wistfully at their summons to duty form,

Tennis Anyone?

I chucked out my red leather golf bag, woods and irons, and my snazzy red Etonic golf shoes.