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Showing posts from September, 2023

My Short Story, "In the Hamptons."

  Copyright Glo Lewis 9/27/2023   Dear Readers of My Blog, 💚   I have decided to share my short story, “In the Hamptons” with you. This is a work of fiction; it is not a memoir. Here is the story below (As usual, God bless, and I'll be in touch soon):     In the Hamptons Copyright Glo Lewis 9/27/2023        In 1966, I was a brash cub reporter with a knack for snappy prose. I covered Liza Rae’s story for The Times, in May of that year. She had lost her mind and staggered into the Atlantic Sea, ragged and half-mad at sixteen.    Liza Rae grew up rich. She gave birth to her son, Zachary, in 1963, when she was thirteen. These two statements seem at odds because privilege has the expectation of propriety. But I am telling you the truth.    Her family lived in Montauk, at the end of Long Island, New York, in the Hamptons, a glittering crown of windswept real estate where royals broker realms of power that are unreachable by most of us. Still, we think that w

My Short Story, "The Photographs."

  Copyright Glo Lewis 9/21/2023   Dear Readers of My Blog, 💚   I have decided to share my short story, “The Photographs,” with you. This is a work of fiction; it is not a memoir; my grandfather never killed anyone. Here is the story below (As usual, God bless, and I'll be in touch soon):     The Photographs Copyright Glo Lewis 9/21/2023                 It is an opaque, rainy day in Portland, Oregon, caught somewhere between November and December in 2003, in that nebulous sort of way in which days seem to stall between seasons; the heavens punctuate this passage of time and appear to mourn it, as the sky breaks open with a pattern of thunderous claps, followed by the crazy zigzagging of lightning and rain, which crashes heavily, darkly, and with abandon from pregnant clouds.     I look around for something to do as the rain pelts the windows. It is a good day to stay indoors, I decide. I pour myself a glass of water and bring it into the front ro