June 25, 2026
A few minutes into my walk, something caught my eye, and I stopped. Just ahead, two or three feet away, three butterflies hovered over the path…
April 4, 2026
Joshua turned off the car radio and leaned back in his seat. His senses were alert, tuned to the daily news about the plight of migrants at the United States–Mexico border. A male voice reported the latest separations of families caught in the crackdown.
March 19, 2026
Alim held out his hand and took the shemai. He tried not to eat it quickly. He tried to savor it and make it last, but it disappeared from the paper almost before he had felt its weight in his hands.
March 9, 2026
On my last walk, I spotted a blue heron sitting quietly by the pond and even managed to snap a photo with my phone. I wonder if the bird will be there again. A deer drinking from the small stream flowing across the trail lifts its head and looks at me, but it does not flee.
March 3, 2026
On a toasty summer day, I run to our local Asian grocery store in Amherst, Massachusetts with only one thought on my mind — I have to get tamarind sauce and taste that strong, tangy flavor.