There Is No Safety
The very hard thing I am learning right now—about race, and about myself—is that the rules I have been living by are not very good ones.
Bottle Episode
Yesterday, as I was beginning to write this, a fly filled the room.
Unpacking the Attic: Home in Eight Vignettes
Technically my third home, but my memories begin here.
The Voice in The Basement and Other Romances
The episodes are short stories, and, like short stories, they have the boldness to be small, specific, uncomfortable, or shamelessly tender.
Roads: Untaken, Taken
But I will often retrace the roads and words I’ve taken and exhale, exultant.
SUM(July2013:July2020)
When I got lonely, I would express that feeling by writing about geography, current events, and my personal life, outlining the ways those forces contributed to that loneliness.
The House on Elizabeth Lane
Remember when Grandma, a model of self-restraint, shrieked so loudly you could hear her from across the lake?
Onward and Upward
The laughter flowed freely, as if the devastation of the last few days had dammed it up until it burst from us all at once.
The Coward’s Prayer
Kindle patience within when the spark of impulse bursts upon me.
The Pleasant Company of Strangers
Like most people around the world, I have not attended a live performance in months.
