
Ms. Patete Goes to the Laundromat
I love my in-unit washer and dryer—I have the pictures to prove it.
I love my in-unit washer and dryer—I have the pictures to prove it.
But there is something biblical and beautiful about commitment to community that is not quickly discarded when a promotion lures or a warmer climate beckons.
Snowballs were thrown, hands were frozen, and hearts were full as I enjoyed my first real snowfall.
“Do you have a rolling pin?” I ask her. “No, but I have a wine bottle that’ll do the trick,” she replies.
I don’t know if they all liked it, but it was my birthday.
If fashion trends exist on the Island of Lost Toys, perhaps they’re all wearing the mismatched earrings and socks our past selves misplaced.
Is it because linen clothes feel a tad bit more elegant than jeans?
When everyone gathered around her and started singing “Happy Birthday” in a key far too high, she knew to blow out the candles.
I’d walk along the lake and listen to the birds, thinking about how strange it was that a man-made peninsula became a spot of natural beauty amongst glass skyscrapers.
I took an Uber Black back to my hotel just because I could.