by Ted Box — I searched under the bed, in the attic, in every corner of the house, even in the boatyard. My teddy bear was nowhere to be found. My love had emerged before I could make the distinction between animate and inanimate....

by Ted Box — Dave lived down the canal, diagonally across from our old house. His mother had committed suicide by jumping in front of a train with him in her arms. He was untouched, and too young to remember, but I didn’t believe that...

by Ted Box — I’ve practiced holding my breath to plumb your depth, And spent a great deal of time looking at you, But looking within has always held fascination. And glimpses of my own allow me to feel bound to you not out of...

by Ted Box — was twenty-three and on the prowl. An early morning drive around the loop at Seward Park, a peninsular that juts into Lake Washington brought me to the grassy mound that bordered the beach. All alone, and right in the middle of...

Ted Box is an alchemist storyteller – a man who grew up in a small eastern seaboard town with the ocean as his guide. Ted’s writing lens shows us the unpredictability of humanity (including his own) against the wild unpredictable nature of the sea....