101Jun 22, 2018
Friday morning, while the light’s still new, Adam slides his Father’s Day gift out of hiding. “Play golf,” Adam says, pausing the game he’s playing on the Xbox, sauntering over to where Kevin and I stand talking, dropping the words like a couple of coins in Kevin’s palm. Adam watches our faces, looking for something–a […]
102Jun 1, 2018
Early morning and the way feels long, as though I’ve meandered for miles without a full inhale, and my finger pauses over this verse: “When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them on the road through the Philistine country, though that was shorter (Exodus 13:17).” I imagine the way those freed women felt, wrapping […]
103May 11, 2018
Anger and hurt, dancing like the steam curling mad over my coffee cup, propel me under until criticism rolls off my tongue. The words have a metallic tang, as though I’ve bitten my lip. I draw my knees up into the chair, wrapping my fingers around my bare feet, feeling the bones. Zoe and I […]
104May 4, 2018
It takes a hammer and a knife-sharp nail–a good, shuddering whack to the thick, fat beam, but it’s done. I step back, admiring. The sign, a small, artfully worn thing as black as night, says gather here. I hang it on the porch, where it’s sweet, simple command rounds out a semi-circle of rocking chairs–one summer-sky […]
105Apr 6, 2018
In that house on the hill, someone shouts so loud the windows rattle, brittle and tinkling, like chains. In horror films, that sound–always the glass clattering like shivering teeth–makes me want to hide my face. My steps slow as I pass by, a rumbling street and a sidewalk between. “I told YOU,” I hear a […]
106Mar 30, 2018
It’s one of those days with locked-up steel skies and a chill seeping into my skin; one of those days when time bruises our backs and driving to school feels like slowly untangling knots; one of those days when I wonder what caused all this mess but have no real hope for a sensible answer. It’s one […]
107Mar 23, 2018
I settle the game in front of me, sliding off the lid. The box shudders audibly, a stuttering breath, as though the insides hold more substance than half a dozen glossy, tabbed sketch books, some dry erase markers, cards. Black smudges and half-erased lines fleck the books, memories of other game nights, memories of us, […]
108Mar 16, 2018
Into the bowling alley I go, “Saturday me” with her yoga pants and her clean face and her Mr. Rogers jacket (yes, because I wear it around the house). This is the me that’s only me, the honest introvert; the quiet, swallowed-up, zipped-up me just holding tight to God’s hand, walking through the parking lot. […]
109Mar 2, 2018
In the yard where the chainsaw growls, I can only see blooms, white like lace, gathered and falling everywhere, spilling onto the road. They’re cutting down that tree. I want to stop and gawk, to tilt my head and ask, Why would you? It’s a beautiful death. I’m stunned by the yard that looks like a […]
110Feb 23, 2018
I walk and let things go, whispered things, all the heavy and daunting things pressed against my shoulders like so much Winter weight, damp and thick and flat grey; things that cannot be at all what they seem. This weather inspires every kind of ache; all day the clouds have swallowed us. And if this […]