21Jan 19, 2018
At first, Riley can’t see. Bright Sunday morning, and we’re just inside the building where the church meets saying hello, a bunch of mismatched, layered-up family wearing reunion smiles, and I see her bending over her clipboard, too low, too close, one eye flat closed like a patch and the other just barely a slit. […]
22Oct 27, 2017
On the field, a tangle of feet, tennis shoes slick with wet, flat grass, green-smeared on Converse white. Some of the kids sprint, others twist and skitter, like wind-blown seeds. It’s a game, a favorite: the prey try to make it across the field to grab up a bit of foam “food” in their fists, one […]
23Aug 26, 2016
Buttonhooks, he says. Buttonhooks?  The zucchini in my hand drips. I run a thumb over a crack in its waxy green skin, listening. “Buttonhooks!  ButtonHOOKS!” He tries hard to annunciate; I can hear each letter’s effort, the work to shape it with his tongue.  Placing vegetable on cutting board, I turn toward him, leaning to see […]
24Jun 12, 2015
I wish I had thought to take a picture of them, sitting there with me. Â Me, all hulled out and bare—wearing my soft pants and no makeup, because with them I can. Â And them—six of my close friends–using their smartphones (of all things) and their words and their hands that can’t be still in the […]
25Jun 5, 2015
I really don’t know what to say anymore, she says to me, and I understand, because when you say everything true and it doesn’t seem to make a difference you finally run out of words.  They drain and fall away, leaving only echoes like bits of fluttering ash.  And in the aftermath of a wordy, difficult […]