1May 21, 2021
I joke and call myself a hoop jumper, me with my hair flying wild around my face and my exercise clothes still on from before carpool; me with a pen in one hand, and a mess of papers stretched across the desk in indistinguishable stacks, some paper-clipped, some loose and, as Kevin would say, “flapping […]
2Sep 13, 2019
We sit, Kevin and I, on metal locker room benches dotted with holes, our bodies carefully sandwiched between a woman in a kerchief–silver-gray hair slipping out at the edges, and a herd of boys climbing over their mother. Mom smiles weakly when we say hello, studying the numbered slip in her fingers while one of […]
3Jan 11, 2019
From my bedroom, where I stand folding clothes, pressing my mama hands flat against warm shirts, smoothing out the lines, I can hear Zoe laughing. That laugh of hers, it’s like the wings of a thousand birds flying free. Her door is closed, but I know that when I tap my fingers against it; when […]
4Jun 12, 2015
I wish I had thought to take a picture of them, sitting there with me. Me, all hulled out and bare—wearing my soft pants and no makeup, because with them I can. 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 […]