A LITERARY COLLECTION FROM VERMONT WRITERS

His beloved Vespa motor scooter had been stolen. I noticed it missing, early morning. I went back to the bedroom. "Gil, are you awake? Your bike isn't out back." "I know." "Where is it?" "Stolen." He went back to sleep. When he got up he asked me to drive him to the bus station. "You have to report the theft to the police or your insurance won't —" "I've got everything under control, don't worry about it. Could you drive me to the bus station?" He was still half asleep withou

The minute I wake up I know it's a hungry day. A day when I am so hungry that I try to eat myself and when that doesn't help I try to eat a stranger on the street corner. Sometimes I'll just walk into people's houses and take a bite out of their ankle. It's not enough. Still hungry — in this case — for pretty things that I can take home and tuck inside my drawers and closets. Things that belong to me and no one can take away from me, ever. Luckily, I live in America, where ta