It doesn’t rain trash in the city, but the alleyways wouldn’t know that. When the storms come through, our streets ocean and so many telltale smiling boxes sit drowned in the outpour. I’ve been sick for days, and it has rained for days, and those statements are only probably true. All I know is that even when I feel better, I don’t, and even when … Continue reading mostly true
I’m sorry. What was his name? This is a pretty new addition to common responses to loss. We’re learning more about grief every day. I like this for us. I much prefer it to asking how he died, or how old he was, or any of the questions I got regularly in the first few years. But, it’s complicated. Telling people Dave was named Dave … Continue reading 18. wrinkled
I’m sitting on a chair I assembled myself. My computer is sitting on a table I assembled myself. I’ve set hot coffee right next to it. The faith I have in this is undeserved, unbacked by history, but seems to be holding. Seven years ago, when I came home from prison, newly widowed, I ordered an office chair off the internet so I could comfortably … Continue reading 8. assembling grace
The last ring my husband made for me still fits. We lived in our car then.Outside the world,molded to core and bone. The ring sits differently now,slides only halfway downa finger so paddedit sometimes forgets what it’s made of. The ring never forgetswhere it came from. It fits now, a widow’s ring,always at half mast. Continue reading salute
Prompt from a temporary therapist: Write about the silliest something that you use to bully yourself. Then write about how you let it go. One day a personwho loves me,loves-me-loves-me, will want to have a photo of ustogether. (Just becauseit’s never happeneddoesn’t meanit can’t. (Just becauseit’s never happeneddoesn’t meanI am a place only real enoughfor a name and naughtelse. (See Paper Towns. (See howthey still … Continue reading paper town lover
When folding the towels, I run my hands along the patterned grid. In the transition from a quiet grey to a louder grey, there is a row of loops of thread. Big circled loops cinched above small neat lines. They look like a series of twos. Happy birthday, baby, I say aloud, as I do every time I see 222 in the world. I didn’t … Continue reading 2/22/22
So often I love the blank page of a blog. I could write anything here. I could write: some plankton can make little clouds above their own heads when the sun is too bright. This is true. I could write: some people bring their rainclouds with them wherever they go. I am afraid of becoming this kind of person. This is metaphorically true, then just … Continue reading blank
Sometimes the road seems paved, but you still slip through. You leave a crack in the flooring and think, I’ll get to it, but then you don’t, and then time flaps its gargoyled wings and the crack becomes a pothole, and you fall in. Today, I fell in. I sobbed in my bathroom for awhile, watching my face contort into something truly mythical. The way … Continue reading the scream
rarasaur 