1Nov 29, 2019
We stand in a huddled line, breath like mist in the frosty cold, our hands stuffed in our pockets. Seven minutes until the DMV opens, and we wait like a semi-orderly herd of sleepy sheep staring expectantly at a storefront door. “If we had a YouTube channel, this would be the episode to watch,” I […]
2May 27, 2016
From the worn table–an oval thing, brown like the hull of a nut and rubbed with a history of fingers, a delicate kaleidoscope of tiny butterflies drifts, falling lightly on our living room carpet. I scoop up the thin, papery things with one hand as I walk by, kneeling just the moment, and carefully dump […]
3Oct 16, 2015
The hour turns, and my friend waves me over, patting the chair beside. All evening, we have all only wanted to surround her, this iron-strong friend strong enough yet to admit that she needs us to lift her. It takes a brave woman to allow the veil to fall—whisper-light—from her face, to sit uncovered and honest, to […]
4Sep 25, 2015
Hello there! Good morning to you, he calls. He has a brightness I can feel before I see him, even though I realize as I look up that his gear—suit, helmet, even the bike—is all black, like the deepest part of the night. I’m suddenly aware that I’ve been staring at the pavement, while he […]
5Sep 11, 2015
I love wide, open spaces, those places that could never be arm-measured, that overflow conceivable depth and stretch further than sight; spilling over, covering completely, unbound, unheld, uncaptured. So today, because I need reminders, God sends us in a different direction, turning left on a road instead of the usual right, and this just as I […]
6Apr 17, 2015
I like the way God built me. She says it like it’s the simplest thing. The words fall easy, fluttering elegant, lighting on a twisty varicose vein that branches pen-thin across my thigh. I had been tracing the bruised lines with my finger. These spidery betrayers invade, cracks in the shell of me suddenly […]
7Sep 19, 2014
From a grassy field roadside, I gather up the picture of a broken barn with history clear tumbling from it’s splintered walls, the jagged boards dark, like the trunks of trees. These planks, hewn from deadwood dragged, shaped over sawdust piles, sanded, treated, painted; nailed sharp, clean, with a satisfied whack—these planks caught the sweat […]
8Nov 1, 2013
In the afternoon, we burst through the door, with three different conversations knotting in the air—one thread hard to follow, one dangling, one darting so fast I can’t keep up. A general fumbling ensues for snacks, and Mom, I need to tell you, and What I have to do today is, and May I watch Tom and Jerry, […]