This is an entertaining and thoughtful travel journal, written for friends by a friend who is open and honest enough to confide that traveling solo means “having a great time and having a sad and lonely time too.”

Patrick Miller removed his shoes, Eurydice removed her sandals, Dante Gabriel Rosetti tapped Ford Madox Ford on the shoulder.

“If you have information, please call our hotline.”

Nominee: Best Small Fictions 2017 | They rose—tumbled and laughed and blew kisses until eventually they sensed the chill, understood they’d surpassed Everest, fell asleep, and crisped up like leaves on the way out.

…in New York in your bed over more royal tread do I hear the train hear the train hear the train take you …

The James River, unclean and indifferent, cared not a whit, and resumed its silent whistle.