Salvatore Difalco

En Route

“I saw him a few weeks ago,” I said to my friend, Sam. “We went for a stroll in my neighborhood. He talked about hitting Italy with Susan this summer. He’d been brushing up on his Italian. And he looked good. Then I talked to him a week later and he sounded bizarre.”   “You …

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A blue-lit night bus streams across the wet black street as the rain shower abates. The air tingles. I feel alive for the first time today. How strange to say that. How strange to think that for the rest of the day I felt as though I didn’t exist. I talked to no one, looked …



We went out in a rowboat Uncle Joe had rented for us at Valen’s Conservation Area. The manmade lake was small, but a stiffish breeze raised concern with some of our parents, though not enough to quash the outing. Leading the way, cousin Maria, the oldest, took one of the oars. Lanky Laura Broccoli, her …

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