Pamela Mandell

On a summer day not so long ago, my husband and I stood, our shovels in hand, on the lower edge of the sloping hill leading toward the higher ground of our backyard.

This Day

The Thread

Non-fiction

It was off-season on an unusually balmy day just after Thanksgiving when Paul and I arrived at the gated entrance to the state park. We wore bright yellow and green caution vests over our coats, Noki, our old dog, had one strapped around his chest too because it was hunting season.

Bodies

The Thread

Non-fiction

One early fall morning, Paul and I walked down to the beach to examine what looked like, from the small corner deck of my apartment, large pink slabs of flesh that had washed ashore during the night.

Pamela Mandell

This Is What We Are Doing Today

This Day

Bodies