We lived then in a university community, where marriage itself was subject to flinty-eyed skepticism—three of us eight to-be-marrieds were divorced, with kids in tow and wedding albums long lost in an attic or cellar.
July 31, 2021
I hate her for making me untimely soup. I hate her for taking my father’s time. And I hate her most, in that moment, for acting like a friend, or maybe a mother.
July 30, 2021
by Elizabeth O’Nuanain Fatness: Everyone will look at me. Everyone will judge me. Everyone will imagine I spend my days…
July 29, 2021
by AnnMarie Roselli Vito and Carmella defied age in such a way that pretending they’d live forever was easy.…
July 28, 2021
I had just handled double skin cancer surgery. Surely, I could handle divorce.
July 27, 2021
I drove to the apartment, still upset, but shook myself off and went inside. My roommates were in the midst of preparing their dinners and I joined them to do the same. I didn’t have the courage to share what happened in the Colombian’s studio until now.
July 26, 2021
by Nancy Crisafulli Ingredients From Mother’s Expansive Garden 1 cup low-cal self-esteem For correct blend mix equal parts shame,…
July 25, 2021
The most important similarity between humans and trees is that each tree, like each human, is unique and beautiful in its own way.
July 24, 2021
Marie thought there was a lot of ideas her work was incapable of exploring: mathematical axioms; the eight minutes and 48 seconds George Floyd spent on the ground, dying.
July 23, 2021
We made the mistake of reading the Ferber book which advocates letting your child cry themselves to sleep. It was hideous. No grace. No laughter.
July 22, 2021
He is in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I hear the water running from the faucet, then it is turned off, then it runs again, then it is off, on, off, on and off for 15 minutes.
July 21, 2021
I haven’t lived in that house for 27 years. I wish I could better trust the reliability of my memories from inside it, but I know which memories are from before and after grief moved in.
July 20, 2021
I thought about how even though I couldn’t see my family physically, I’ve spoken to them more in the last year than I had the previous two years combined.
July 19, 2021
This is a letter to my anxiety, and to the morning of Dec. 6, 2013, when I think that something is not quite right. It was still early––too early, except what I mean is there was no sun up yet, no blue walls, no shower or warm spot.ve
July 18, 2021