I keep wracking my brain trying to think of something clever to say. I stare at the cursor unforgivingly blinking at the top left corner of my screen and it’s making me increasingly anxious. There is something in me that wants to sound profound. Meaningful. Despair fills corners of my heart, and yet, overwhelmingly, I… Continue reading EHC.
Author: thepathtoworthy
Franz.
There’s a moment where I’m staring at the Zoom icon and then suddenly, his face fills the screen. I take him in in bits and pieces. Round tortoiseshell plastic framed glasses, broad forehead, full lips formed into a semi-frown and sweat dotting his hair line. I instantly wonder if he’s just come from some activity… Continue reading Franz.
Tilda.
I’m studying her profile in a way that would be obvious if she weren’t driving. Maybe it’s obvious anyway, but she’s not the kind to acknowledge, not in that way. Her skin is still perfect. I don’t think they use the expression peaches and cream anymore, but if they did, if I did, this would… Continue reading Tilda.
Tis my season.
I am eating fluffy, bright yellow scrambled eggs littered with small cut pieces of fresh tomato, with sliced banana on the side when the first notification appears. I carefully sip the hot espresso I made before I swipe open the app. It’s 10 a.m. or so here, which means it’s 6 a.m. or so, there.… Continue reading Tis my season.
Sorry, Sarah.
I pause and kick the broken asphalt just in front of the filthy right toe of my Asics. I need to change to a new pair, but I’m resistant because it’s still such shitty weather. Almost there, I think. Fucking asshole, I say into the foggy early morning air. What is bubbling inside of me… Continue reading Sorry, Sarah.
I like her teaching, too.
Melissa pats her caramel highlighted curls which perfectly fan out around her chartreuse fleece ear warmer. It’s unquestionably more expensive than the shitty Amazon purchased one I jammed on my head this morning. She is clearly uncomfortable. It wasn’t intentional on my part- to make her uneasy, but that’s also a part of me so… Continue reading I like her teaching, too.
A Day on Venus.
I’ve thought a lot about the way I navigate through the world. The way I often caveat or couch statements that I make. The way I offer apologies or concessions, to others, to myself, before it’s even necessary. The way I sidestep the thing I want to really say for fear of the reaction I… Continue reading A Day on Venus.
Happy Galantine’s Day, Devi.
I’ve named her Devi because she closely resembles a woman I knew in college. Her hair is jet black and the kind of wavy I admire-frizz free and giving off curling iron feels. I know she didn’t though, use a hair tool. It’s just her hair. I know that in the subconscious way she keeps… Continue reading Happy Galantine’s Day, Devi.
Filed Under…
Many women I know haven’t had toe-curling kisses down the nape of their neck, but many have felt the stomach-churning sensation of unwelcome, hot, sticky breath just under their ear. Many women I know haven’t been told that they’re breathtakingly beautiful, but many have been told that they’re fuckable. Many women I know haven’t felt… Continue reading Filed Under…
Let me be…
I think I’m just the worst mother, M says to me, while looking down at the shiny folds of her black, designer puffer coat. You do? I reply. This wasn’t really a question asked in earnest, but an invitation to revisit the statement. Picking at the worn cuticles on her ungloved hands, she continues, undeterred.… Continue reading Let me be…
thepathtoworthy.com 