I always wanted to be a weatherwoman. It was a simple and steady flight inside of me that encountered little turbulence. I liked being at the center of something so fundamental, something that affected everyone,…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
Drive Me Home
Where I live, abandoned buildings lean precariously towards roads carved by oxen the first time they sloughed this forest to the ground. The only road to my home is held in place by roots of…
Liquid Skin
Under the bad neon hardware store lighting in brunch and boutique Ranelagh I flap a six-tint color swatch at my med school classmate. As if a ticket on a commuter train, nudging to get hole-punched…