The Cities That Were
Ruins should horrify us—grim testaments to our permanent impermanence
Ruins should horrify us—grim testaments to our permanent impermanence
Like all Northwesterners, I do have my own pet theory about the Cooper case.
I’ve heard it said that historians are the “mules of academia.”
Have you ever seen the air before?
Without a breaking loose of the old, sometimes there simply isn’t room to grow.
Something repeated enough becomes the truth.
As the days have steadily gotten shorter, darker, and wetter, the creeping presence of death has seemed to constrict tighter around my periphery.
His twig-thin waist cannot support his bulging, leafy muscles.
But I will often retrace the roads and words I’ve taken and exhale, exultant.
Who knew when we’d see each other again, with the pandemic rolling in and the economy flipping belly-up, with graduation and wedding and career plans scattering in the air like confetti.