Late August lament for the loss of summertime. The rapid fade into autumn.  There’s dew on my windshield in the morning, and a slight chill in the air at dusk. Swimsuits become sweatshirts. Sandals become shoes. On the roads, there’s more traffic. School’s in session, but I’m not ready to accept it. Here’s a weird…

As a father of two toddlers, I’m challenged to find quality writing time. I move from work to daycare, from bath time to bed time. The stories inside me simmer; I thumb-type snippets on my phone while attending my daughter’s dance class, but I miss her new twirl, and the scene crumbles when my 11…