I come from a village of basket weavers. Wicker to wool, bamboo to bark—if it was meant to hold something, we could craft it.

When his father moved out, Tyler went mute, sitting in his room surrounded by Tinkertoys, building cars and houses that would not break. He would ignore the voice of his mother that penetrated the carpeted floor, punctuated with words that made him sweat.

One of the bright guests died suddenly that evening.  It was Miss Helena, who wore a long strand of pearls and an ostrich feather in her hair.  Some said she’d drowned in the mansion’s gray fountain. Others claimed she’d fallen down the garden’s stony stair.

It was the summer that we, of our own guts, decided to become anesthesiologists. It was the summer that my twin sister and I went about capturing the smallest animals we could find and placing them in dirty green-glass jars which smelled of brine.

The “new arrival” appeared quite suddenly. Edmund supposed that if he thought very hard about it he would be able to follow the chain of events precisely. First, Mummy and Daddy became happier.

This is what happened. I was trying to move my tallboy when it fell on me and pinned me to the floor. I cried out but no one heard — possibly because I live alone and my neighbors work. It took three days for Janice to notice I had not picked up my newspapers or mail.

Jordan and Kate were driving from Milwaukee to Door County to shop for antiques. They had recently bought their first home, a condominium downtown, and it was all but completely decorated. They just couldn't decide what to do with the alcove in the hall.