“Everything will need selling, or moving, or rearranging. But there's no right place for any of it, including the most awkward piece of furniture: me. I'm too empty to sell. I'm too replaceable to stay in Wellsford, and I'm too… — Barbara Stuber Copy Share Image
“Under a bruised sky, fingers of wind stroke the wheat from bleached gold to tan and back.” — Barbara Stuber Copy Share Image
“Everything will need selling, or moving, or rearranging. But there's no right place for any of it, including the most awkward piece of furniture:… — Barbara Stuber Copy Share Image
“I’ve never seen an old person cry like this. The sadness from life is supposed to be folded inside an old person, not streaming… — Barbara Stuber Copy Share Image
“Top-heavy sunflowers droop, their leaves baked golden by the August sun.” — Barbara Stuber Copy Share Image
