Category Archives: Michigan
I don’t often think about my breath.
There are no miscalculations or extraneous details—things are only borrowed or loaned between neighbors.
Meaning, it turns out, doesn’t always accompany mortality.
I care a lot about things like that. I want people to remember good things about me.
But I will say that—for me—being confined to my home has sometimes felt liberating in a small and quiet way.
The next morning she was clutching the screen door with her dainty insect toes.
When confronted with a dozen or so unexpected snails, one faces questions of moral principle one never thought one would.
The first time I saw her, I was sitting on Cotter’s lap—he had been my best friend for probably six years at that point—at a meeting I crashed after coming home early from France.
“There are peacocks in Creston?!??”