There Would Be Less Screaming
I often imagine my writing sessions should be quiet and humble, like those stern Dutch paintings of solitary women making lace in solemn bands of light.
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A House Always Made of Freshly Chopped Wood
I still have vivid dreams that my mother is still alive; I find her sitting at a kitchen table in a tiny house by the sea, living under an assumed name.
Some Faceless Behemoth Purchased It
Combing through eighteen years of digital cruft has led me down an unexpectedly emotional walk down memory lane.
The Bare Trees Reveal New Scenery
All the leaves are on the ground now, and the bare trees reveal new scenery.
Sleep Has a Moral Dimension
If someone behaves atrociously, we wonder how they sleep at night.
Sometimes You Can’t Find the Door
Perhaps it becomes self-fulfilling to imagine the future as stern and forbidding.
It Feels Like a Video Game
We spent a fair chunk of the ride debating whether laws were necessary.
Complaining While Their Opponents Scorch the Earth
A White Honda with a Crumpled Fender
Maybe they’ll wind up on the evening news someday.
If We Can Rearrange Time, We Can Do Anything
Changing the clocks should be the year's biggest celebration with fireworks, parades, and gift-giving.
I Recited the Names of Cities Like a Mantra
A Bright Daytime Moon Hung in the Sky
I’d like to live in a world of apologetic gods and talking satellites.