But when a place is hardly (if ever) depicted, a place can be stereotyped into invisibility.
Category Archives: Indiana
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t contemplate the busted door as a sign from God that I should stay home, but I brushed that off right quick.
So here I now find myself, a year later, not with a record of instances—some long calendar of thresholds met and surpassed by Jes and me and Toph—but with the accretion of slow change.
I was suddenly aware of everything: the squelch of the slider door’s rubber seal releasing as my brother came in from the yard. The creak and crash of the screen door to the garage behind my dad.
It can exist in its difficulty without any dressing up and still be deserving of love.
I spent a good chunk of my prewriting time for this blog post keeping Satan at bay.
I didn’t swerve around the pothole because I didn’t see it. In many ways, I’ve forgotten how to look outside myself and outside my culture.
Most people say that I shouldn’t let anything hold me back from doing great things. But I don’t have much desire to do great things. What are great things without the small things?
Lucky for me, The Hot Room was offering a free event at a local park last week.
Words are not the deciding factor here. Actions are met with actions.