January 28, 2024
Twirling wide circles to approving stares
then climbs a rope in the spotlight’s bright hue
laser hot but she’s a prism revealed.
January 27, 2024
How the Earth Blankets our History by Chapters Archeologists are Worms and Bugs and Burrowing Creatures…
January 26, 2024
At the front desk I asked the concierge if she had seen Amelia. The concierge furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes. “Amelia? Amelia? I don’t recall anyone named Amelia.” The concierge must have been new, to not know Amelia, although I could have sworn she was an old hand. “What’s the full name?”
January 24, 2024
You looked at me. I sprawl like a spoilt garden at the estuary of spring.
January 23, 2024
On my way, I thought I heard them talking about me. As I neared the table they stopped talking. Zoey looked guilty. Zoey always looked guilty. When I sat down they stared at me with – oh, I don’t know – sorrow, pity: something like that. In response I opened my hands palms up, and said, “What?” as I looked from one to the other.
January 20, 2024
Doctors frowned at me as they admonished: Be sure you get your mammograms every year. The fibrous tissue is very dense with calcium deposits. We need a mammo every year for comparison.
January 19, 2024
Here they call them palmetto bugs but they’re just cockroaches, really. Normally, I would have murdered the tiny intruder but on this morning, on this particular day, I awoke with a newfound appreciation for life: for any and all life.
January 17, 2024
But the highlight of the event was the momentous meeting between Luna Lyngdoh and Meban Tsangpa, a Samanera or novice monk. A woke, computer-trained graduate, he had been inducted into the monastery as a trainee. He followed many of the cardinal religious precepts but had not yet attained higher ordination which would make him a Bhikkhu or a full-fledged monk.
January 16, 2024
Meghalaya in monsoon — the perfect time to explore and embrace the beauty of the Sacred Woods. Luna smiled to herself as she recalled this much-loved refrain from her days of childhood and youth. She walked past the moss-slickened stones, boulders flecked with the chartreuse lichen, stopping to admire the white coral mushrooms that were so famous here.
January 15, 2024
but you also forget the names of acquaintances, people you knew things you were good at, national and state capitals…
January 14, 2024
The email from British Airways popped up just as my sister and I arrived at Glasgow International Friday night before our flights home: “We're really sorry that your upcoming flights have been canceled.” A bonus day in Edinburgh? I knew just what I’d do.
January 13, 2024
I couldn’t understand why you kept calling our parents, the phone ringing repeatedly before Dad silenced it. “He wants money,” Dad whispered knowingly to Mom. I was too young to understand that you’d done this all before: drunk texts and calls, expectations of payment, always late at night.