A Mourning Dove on the News
I silently noted the tiles on the sidewalks, the salty flavor of miso soup, the glimpse of a persimmon tree behind the chapel.
Summer Joys and Blues
When I ran out of school, I crashed into grief.
What I Used To Be
In some shots, you can see things that I recognize from my childhood—a clock, a chair, some of the my brother’s first toys.
I Was Wrong About My Snake Plant
Marla was making her way in the world.
*Record Scratch*
Now, where were we? Ah, yes, “Please, God.”
Where Nobody Knows Your Name
I’ve chased the magic of that game, trying to replicate the environment a few times since.
Collecting Vinyls Without a Record Player
Giving up when confronted with the imperfections of the world isn’t going to make the world a better place.
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
At around 7:10 p.m., the Anderson asked how the Fitzgerald was doing, to which Captain McSorley responded: “We are holding our own.” That was the last communication heard from the ship.
Three States, One Story
I assured her I wasn’t taller—there was so much Mormonism in the Utah air that it somehow made her shrink.
A Long Memory
I remember not liking it—the plum—very much.
