Unpacking the Attic: Home in Eight Vignettes
Technically my third home, but my memories begin here.
A Report from Nerd Camp
This workshop is tuition-free, assignment-free, and pretty stress-free, but soon I’ll be back at my own school, and the cloud of duties will descend.
See the Door?
She was writing on the whiteboard when the agreed upon time came. She turned around to find all nineteen students in the class at their desks, blankly staring at her with metal spoons pointed upward in our closed fists.
Dermacentor variabilis
Two more ticks joined the swimmer in the bowl. We flicked an intruder into an empty pasta sauce container and scrawled “Tick Jar” across the glass in Sharpie.
Seeing Staci
I didn’t say anything. Not yet. But I was getting drunker. Not off the single beer I had to drink, but off the flood of potent memories over our last eight years of friendship.
