STOLON SPRING

"You can die from a fish bone." I've held this ominous certainty to memory as far back as I can recall.

One could die from a fish bone as well as a broken heart. How could delicate cartilage and sadness have the same authority as violent crime and cancer to snuff out life?

These disturbing beliefs caused me to walk through childhood by way of caution - combing for tiny bones, and making a point to let no one hear too much hunger or heartache in the way I stated my needs.

* These are the opening lines to a short story I wrote last May called STOLON SPRING. "Stolon" refers to the root systems of the Trout Lilies I was admiring when I discovered the body of a man lying dead in the park where I walk my dog everyday; it was a "stolon" spring and a "stolen" spring.