by Robert P. Barsanti Lily Pulitzer came in the front door, skipped ahead of both the order and the pick up line, and demanded her sandwiches. She explained. “I have an Uber.” “And she knows how to use it.” A plumber explained. There was laughter (for most) and confusion (for […]

by Robert P. Barsanti Summer came like a hangover. One night in June, the ocean hung over us in drops and drips. Then, in the morning, the sun shouted in through the drapes, the tiles got wet, and everything smelled stale. Outside, the growing world leapt at the light. Black-eyed […]

by Robert P. Barsanti The Fourth of July slips onto Nantucket under cover of fog and in a long series of jammed ferry boats. Then, on a someday around noon, we find ourselves stuck in traffic by the high school in front of New Jersey and behind Connecticut. The Fourth […]

by Robert P. Barsanti Close friends of mine are lucky enough to live at one of the right addresses. As a result, nine months out of the year they have no neighbors within a well struck two iron. In the summer, the street is a hive of activity. They tell […]

by Robert P. Barsanti I stood in a kitchen in Tom Nevers and watched a phone ring. My life had skipped back twenty years while an aqua wall-phone was going through its famous paces. For a half second too long for my own comfort I wondered if someone’s pocket held […]

by Robert P. Barsanti June-uary has come upon us from the east. In this season, the visitors, the brides, and the bachelor parties race to the island with their daffodil swim suits, rent aqua bicycles, and head off to Cisco in cotton fog. When they arrive at the brewery, the […]

by Robert P. Barsanti My son came back from April vacation with a date for prom. This fact rose up from the sea and flopped up onto the beach in front of me. I looked at this heaving thing and, as one does, accepted that this is what must be. […]