The room is inky black and the only real sound I can hear is the whirring of my wall air conditioning unit. Well, that and the dehumidifier that feels essential for life these days. I turn my phone horizontally, hoping that this makes the image large enough to feel a greater sense of connectivity. The… Continue reading We are all on trial, aren’t we?
Tag: family
Holy Matrimonial Hell.
I can feel sweat beginning to form on satin that is jammed into my underarm. I’m pissed but this is inevitable. I’m a person who is prone to sweating and Bonnie had to pick motherfucking satin. To be fair, I’m not sure there’s a fabric that would escape my body temperature regulation, but this one… Continue reading Holy Matrimonial Hell.
Pockets of Space.
Perusing Instagram, my attention got stuck on a post about sisters. Specifically, sisters with radically different lives. One sister with a husband and children and one, single and fancy free. This didn’t feel like an accident, as yesterday I stumbled across a post about the grief of parenthood not coming to fruition. The idea that… Continue reading Pockets of Space.
Did you read about Kohen?
Did you read about Kohen Wiley? I ask. Who? Danny replies. Kohen Wiley, I say, more emphatically, as if that might change her answer. This is absurd, I recognize. I was in the neurologist’s office yesterday and a woman was there with her elderly mother, and she was doing exactly what I’m doing now. Her… Continue reading Did you read about Kohen?
Hot Mess Express.
My brain tracks the bead of sweat as it travels from the nape of my neck, down my spine, and finds a home in the lower region of my thin cotton tank. The dampness of my tank is almost indistinguishable from the veritable pool I’ve accumulated by the waist of my skirt. I press my… Continue reading Hot Mess Express.
EHC.
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.
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 Thanksgiving- or something like that.
This time of year, is pure nostalgia. Tidbits of memories that float on a crisp fall breeze, darting under raised coat collars and in between still ungloved fingers. Memories that twirl around my belly and tickle my lips and sit in my belly. So many Thanksgivings through so many different phases of life. The children’s… Continue reading Happy Thanksgiving- or something like that.
Keep your lemons…
I turned forty-five the other day. This is wild because I remember turning fifteen with some amount of clarity. I do. And seventeen. I recall my twentieth spin around the sun, and then, thirty, and also, forty. And now, I’ve arrived (gracefully?) at forty-five. Age is truly a number but when that number is something… Continue reading Keep your lemons…
Baby Games.
I pull a greasy strand of hair loose from my bun and twirl it around my finger. With every twist, I feel the sting of the cuticle I picked bloody earlier. I swipe up, closing the app, and then open it again. Nothing. The meme is funny, I think. I want to write again, to… Continue reading Baby Games.
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