News and Events for Nantucket Island
by Robert P. Barsanti Two couples ambled out of a Calvin Klein advertisement and down the middle of Crooked Lane. All four were of a certain age and credit score, with the right catalogs coming to their houses and the best stores, placed carefully by marketers, in nearby malls. Both […]
~ by Robert P. Barsanti ~ I was driving between the fields at Bartlett’s when I noticed the moon rising up from the pine trees. I pulled the old car over, but left it running. In the dry and cool Autumn air, the moon processed through one thin line to […]
~ by Robert Barsanti ~ I watch them. They run across the parking lot in a clatter of cleats and mud. The helmet dangles from one hand and while the other grasps the ball. They are wearing practice shirts with tears and dirt ground into them. Their socks fall down […]
~ by Robert P. Barsanti ~ On his last day, he woke early. He eased out of bed, one foot, turned to a knee, and then slipped out without bouncing the mattress. She slept on; he wanted to be alone for a moment. No noise slipped from the girls room, […]
~ by Robert P. Barsanti ~ Labor Day comes late this year. For most of my life, Labor Day was my true birthday. When I was much younger, it marked the moment when I got a year older; suddenly I was in sixth grade or I was in high school […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • July and August depend a great deal on what you see and what you choose to ignore. The houseguests come in those months, predominantly, and we live a parallel life to theirs. All of them are great friends from other times: We have heard […]
-by Robert P. Barsanti- June comes with velocity. The momentum tips in March, with a few polite e-mail and a gentle phone call; “Could you find someone to paint the house?” Hidden under the calendar, the deadlines ride a dark current until the warmth of May dries out the island […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • So, I was cold. May fools and frustrates the best of us. On a bright and cloudless Saturday afternoon, when the Red Sox were hitting home runs out of Fenway and the Figawi sailboats zipped before the wind on their way over from Hyannis, […]
• by Robert P. Barsanti • He finally accepted the invitation and came down for the week. Linus lived in one of those far off Vermont towns that you drive through when you are on your way to Jay Peak or Montreal or you are on the run from the […]
