Jeffrey L Cohen

I was describing something that is at exit 9 on the interstate. That is one exit before mine. I said I go to 11.

The top of the tree swayed in the wind. All the individual leaves started flapping. The tree was filled with so many birds it looked like the tree was alive.

As the car crests the hill the mountains appear in the rear view mirror. The haze makes them harder to see than normal, but the distinctive profile is apparent as I drive home.

I was waiting at the airport for Deborah to return from a trip. There's construction at the airport, so the passenger exit is mostly blocked until people come through the doorway.

I get so many invitations for financial seminars over steak dinners that if I were not a vegetarian, I could mostly living on free steak.