Issue 275 | The Sun Magazine

November 1998

Readers Write

Last Chance

A maple leaf, a two-inch brook trout, an execution

By Our Readers


That which you worship is the first thought that comes to your mind when you are suffering anxiety.

Ibn ’Abbad of Ronda

Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

A Night On The Beach

To celebrate the arrival of the new year, Grace and I went to the south coast with our friend Pete. We stayed only a short walk from the beach, in a house that belonged to Andrew, a fellow Peace Corps volunteer who had flown home for the holidays.

By Mark Brazaitis
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Ghost Triangle

That winter, after Betse and I discovered we were infertile, I became fascinated by pearls. My passion for them resembled an addiction, though I hesitate to call it that. There was a ritual aspect to it, a heady anticipation, an urgency I didn’t always understand.

By Wayne Scott
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories


One night when I was sixteen, my father got out of bed, went into the living room, and fell to the floor. He was a big man, and from my own bed I heard the noise and felt the house shake and heard my mother call out, “Roy! Roy! My word!”

By Lee Martin
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Distance

As I listen, a finch flies by outside the window, its gold breast in shiny contrast to the black and white of its wings. My son rarely talks about that trip to Peru three years ago, during which he was shot and his friend Patchen was killed.

By Gene Zeiger
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories


I was a daily drinker, a frequent opium user, and a bona fide cocaine addict. I was a devotee of Demerol and a dabbler in Darvocet. I was a Percodan-pursuing, Seconal-seeking, codeine-consuming, 100 percent, fully certifiable, equal-opportunity substance abuser.

By Al Neipris

The Mayfly Glimmer Before Last Call

Jackie was nineteen, a cocktail waitress in Niagara Falls, New York. She worked in a bar on the other side of town and would come into our place with the other waitresses after her shift was up. Jackie was something else, the way she shook her hair.

By Poe Ballantine

Selected Stories

There is a theory that dreams predict future dreams. For example, if you buy shoes in a dream, that means you will be better dressed in the next dream.

By Sparrow


We never did cocaine on weekdays, only on weekends, and Dave always made us stop by eight o’clock on Sunday, right after Sixty Minutes, because otherwise he was a mess at work the next day.

By Monica Trasandes