Wounded vet Stories

In Mark Cahill’s considered opinion, things could be one hell of a lot worse. He was out of his room at the nearby Manhattan veterans’ hospital, sitting in a coffee shop on Lexington Avenue and staring across the small cluttered table into the soft, brown eyes of a very attractive student nurse. At the moment, she seemed to be saying something about school. He’d nod at times, even mumble to show interest, while concentrat...

HANDLING THINGS IN THE PARKby Rumple Foreskinnote: This is not a work of fiction. Only the names have been changed to protect the author from divorce lawyers and/or para-medics.It was a seductively beautiful Sunday afternoon in Central Park. Around the edge of a small, remote meadow, leaf covered trees, their limbs swaying gently in a light breeze, muffled the sound of distant city traffic. By some miracle, there were no...