11Jan 2, 2015
She follows me upstairs, after we return from some festive errand, and we drop our bags on the floor. Â She touches my shoulder, gripping me lightly, catching my gaze. “Will you do something for me?” She asks, as though the possibility exists that I will say “no,” though we both know I never would. “Sure,” […]
12Mar 4, 2011
When I was a girl, my parents drove the precursor to my own swagger van: the gargantuan station wagon. The first station wagon Dad and Mom owned was white, and they drove it until a drunk driver plowed into the side of it as we were traveling through an intersection, spinning it around and shattering […]