We talk in circles here and there over the span of a few nights before Leo makes the appointment. My head spins for days, as though we only just decided, even though we really made this decision while I was most recently pregnant, almost a year ago.
June 20, 2021
The tremble of something buried deep in him rises to the surface. It is complicated. It is confusion. It is truth.
June 18, 2021
Frida Kahlo and My Left Leg is not a linear narrative, it circles back to loss–both Rapp Black and Kahlo are amputees–but the the loss here is not that simple.
June 17, 2021
There is something stuck in my throat. It happens two weeks after a holiday on which two of the people I love most in the world argue bitterly and stop speaking.
June 13, 2021
As it turns out, anything you do alone by yourself after having a baby feels like a vacation. Taking a dump, sitting in traffic, waiting on line at the bank… these moments of solitude bring with them a sense of escapism for which I feel rescue-dog grateful. Who ever thought a trip to the bank could be exhilarating?
June 11, 2021
“He is cute.” Catherine said about the bartender. Then she told me that she hadn’t had sex with her husband in a year and half. I was shocked but, tried not to show it.
June 9, 2021
He had to be wrong. Max and Eva Krasner would never touch ham, let alone serve it. Maybe a helper in the store did it for them, although the helpers would have been my father and his brothers.
June 7, 2021
For almost a year, I’ve been trying to score a can—one can!– in stores or online, but the product is perennially out-of-stock which has made me want it even more.
June 6, 2021
Little did I know, that despite Havana’s reputation in the west for being a sex-fuelled, boozed, and debauched city, in the corner of my eye hid one of the most profound interactions of my life.
June 4, 2021
Later, drying off on the rocks in the warm midday sun, I took up all the space I needed. I thought to myself that the world may well be created by words and stories, but another part of it is created by gasps.
June 3, 2021
Lawmakers refuse to look critically at what happened on 1/6/2021. Meg Poulin gives us a compelling reason why they needed to act. Enough is enough.
June 1, 2021
As I sat in the chapel eating in silence, I had my answer. On the morning of your son’s death, you apparently eat blueberry yogurt.
May 29, 2021
It always starts with a woman. Plunging into a clawfoot tub, burning her skin in waves. Or poised at the edge of her bed, head turned as if to pose for a portrait – only nobody else is there.
May 28, 2021
As an adoptee, the “creepiest children’s book” was a window out of my own loneliness.
May 26, 2021