Category Archives: semi-fiction

Le Necrophile

The biggest house in Quincy, Massachusetts was owned by a funeral director. His daughters were the most beautiful girls on the South Shore in 1967 and they introduced Cream to their admirers. I was one of them. So was an apprentice embalmer for their father. The other suitors joked that Adam made love to the […]

Ho Ho Ho Hannukah

This evening my boss’ grandson came to visit her jewelry store with her husband. The holiday season had been brutal. We had yet to make a sale. While her husband parked their Ladnrover, Jeri taught the six-year-old how to open a safe and once the handsome lad opened the steel cube she asked, “Did you […]

TORAH TORAH TORAH by Peter Nolan Smith

TORA TORA TORA was one of my mother’s favorite films. The infamy of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor burned bright in her memory. Her friends from Jamaica Plain enlisted in the Marines, Army, and Navy by the scores. Many of them failed to return to Boston. Their bodies rest on islands across the Pacific. […]

41 BLANCO STREET AUSTIN by Peter Nolan Smith

In late January of 1975 I drove a blind piano-tuner in a Delta 88 from Miami Beach to the East Texas. Everyone at the Sea Breeze Hotel on Collins Avenue had warned me about Old Bill’s driving. I thought that the old coots had been kidding, but outside of La Grange the blind man ordered […]

GAY BOY by Peter Nolan Smith

My first eight years were spent on Falmouth Foresides across the harbor from Portland. Summer was for swimming in Watchic Pond and rowing dories from the dock at the end of the street. I never wanted to leave, but in 1960 my father was promoted to a Ma Bell job in Boston. Better pay. Chances […]