The District Sleeps Alone Again
It’s been almost a month since I hopped on the 92 bus and sat next to my soccer teammate on the way to our game, both of us taking turns to explain why we’re running late this time.
Mailbag from Myself
No one has any idea what to do, and we’re all trying to use what we’ve got to make things work.
Snail Saga, Pt. 2: Cohabitating with Tiny Corpses
When confronted with a dozen or so unexpected snails, one faces questions of moral principle one never thought one would.
“Trying Experience,” 6 Letters –
It’s tempting, as the writer, to make a trite connection here to challenges I have previously risen to (a potentially boring speech about crossword puzzles).
Entropy
The first time I saw them, 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.
Isolation Isogloss
If language has a glue, it’s social interaction.
Screwtape’s COVID-19 Dispatches
March 17
Virilina,
Your urgent missile of alarm last night was most unprofessional.
The Resurrection of Things
Whoever said money can’t buy happiness clearly never bought a cozy cerulean sweater.
Love in the Time of COVID-19
Will the sting of the adhesive ripping against our tender skin be an experience we can learn and grow from?
Grandma’s Bread
If terroir survives the conceptual transplant from grape-growing to bread-baking, then it’s no surprise that I’ve failed to replicate my grandma’s bread.
