The Secret by Sandra Anfang

She cornered me on a flight to Fort Lauderdale. The beautiful aerialist had language on her side. I heard the impossible tale of her lover, the firefighter, how he survived the explosion. How The Secret brought it all to pass. I try for listening, neutrality, force my mind wide like a stubborn green coconut. I struggle to […]

Thursday Lunch by Sandra Anfang

I take my fifteen minutes of naked sun in the patio, hidden by tall fences. The cats play tag in shady spots beneath my chair. Jasmine scatters scent like feather boas. A breeze winds through the red maples who hold their breath as if to conserve water against the heat. Where silence reigns, the throb […]

Treadmill by Sandra Anfang

The treadmills at the gym look out on Main Street. I’m long past squeamishness at being Exhibit A, a Macy’s window poster child. A couple pushes a stroller past the brick facade. I wait for their child to plant his palms upon the glass. Sometimes I wave to them. When the mother stops, bends over […]