by Bill Waterman

Months afterward, irregularly, he would appear to her, actually not so unlike his home-comings of the past, discovering him slouched at the foot of the bed, bowed with fatigue and then turning to her with a restraining hand to forestall her questions. ‘Later, maybe tomorrow,’ he would gesture, so that even in sleep it all seemed a bit mad. But on reflection it was only the words that confused her. Absence had a presence of its own, didn’t it? Vacancy, too, could take up space. 

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Under various pen-names, Bill Waterman’s plays, prose and short fiction have appeared in journals such as 2 Bridges Review, Bayou, Confrontation, Iconoclast, and The MacGuffin, and in anthologies such as Western Michigan University’s Art of the One-Act. Among his recently completed projects is a story collection called “Are You Seeing Anyone?” about people struggling through difficult transitions.