Category Archives: meaning in literary fiction

Unfinished Stories

Nancy’s husband sent a picture two days before she died. In that one, she wore a white sleeveless nightgown. Her grown sons leaned over either side of her, a hospice tray with a cup of applesauce in the foreground. She was sleeping. Perhaps she’d slipped into the mercy of a coma. Nancy Johnson Pinard was… Continue Reading

Mercy (an excerpt from a novel-in-progress)

I hope the deer was the last thing Cory saw, not the pickup truck careening toward him, and I hope his eyes were wide and soft with pleasure.  We’re here to teach our children and grandchildren, I know that.  But sometimes we see things through their eyes and everything changes. Every November for ten days… Continue Reading

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