There are people I’ve been waving hello to for about three years, and I don’t know their names or jobs or families, or even if they’re from here, and they don’t know anything about me, either. We eat together if I ever find myself on a day shift, and they chat with me about coffee and […]
When all I’m faced with is my own inadequacy, it’s fun for a while to linger in the distinction of knowing my flaws and feeling like a terrible human being, but then I realize that I’m actually not horrible, and am in fact sometimes incredible, and it’s time I started thinking that all the time.
After having Photoshop on my computer for three years or so, I finally decided to play with it. It’s one of my new favorite ways to waste time.
When the snow comes quietly blinding and blankets the world with its chill and all I hear is the softness of sighing as the white hits the trees and the hills, I remember your voice so fondly but I can’t quite recall the sound, and I find my thoughts turning towards you when no one […]
I watched five cars drive off the highway, beat the odds against me and arrived safely. I was greeted with coffee and more snow and brothers I haven’t seen together in a year. Now we’re hanging ornaments, and I’m knitting, and my hands remember where to pull the yarn even when I can’t put it into […]
When I was four or five, I got my parents to buy me a pair of tiny lizards who could change from green to brown and whose tails could snap off and regenerate if they ever felt threatened enough. I named them Luke and Leia, and they lived in a terrarium with my brother’s two frogs, […]
She leans on you the way smokers bear up against walls in the wind, says your name gently, savoring, wrapping it in breath, treating it as if it needed protection and was used to more shelter than she could give. Her skin thrills at your touch, and her spine finds song as her shoulders fall, […]
I’ve become unaccustomed to the bounty of the land: standoffish and strange, like all that grows in sand. Quench me – for too long have I lain parched, dry as bones baked, made brittle by the sun, sweltering until the ache has twisted and settled as a hard knot of hunger at my core. Sate […]
Days like honey; warm and slow, Summer stretches, skin aglow. Her arms are raised, the colors spread across her shoulders, against her bed. Her words are blooming, her breath is flying, the nights grow hazy with fires dying. She curls up golden, lies in the molten colors and light, unwilling to fight the coolness of […]
I hear it with dread and bitterness starts in the palms of my hands – I take it from the its lovelorn bed, deep within pockets or handbags, sometimes resting on the switchboard that I operate three days a week – lift it until it bites at my earlobe, shudder at the way everything sounds […]