I’m not good at holding still. I was born early. From that moment on, I have always been in a hurry to – I don’t know – just get to the next thing, or place, or event or whatever
Category: Nonfiction
In nineteen thirty-something, between The Depression and World War II, Dad built a small box, not big enough to call a chest or locker, from scraps of pine board, nailed together and screwed down with unnecessarily heavy hinges. He
On occasion, this distant memory surfaces at curious moments. I’m unsure why. However random and peculiar, I suppose the event over fifty years ago had some significance for my young mind. One night when I was six or seven,
I saw taillights last night in a dream about my whole life.Everybody leaves, so why, why wouldn’t you? —The Gaslight Anthem, “Great Expectations” (2008) For Katie Meyer. My son is an athlete. I never was. Before I
This is not what I am supposed to do. The ads, the movies, the major personalities urge us all to go big. Live large. Huge as humanly possible. Make waves. Tidal waves. That’s the rule everywhere. But I believe
“Man, if that ol’ porch rocker could talk . . . … What a tale of tails it could tell!” Over seventy-five year’s worth of tales, that’s what. There’s Arvie’s arse and Cowboy’s keister, Hank’s heinie, Bill’s bum, Carolyn’s
EATING Anorexia and bulimia were not in the popular lexicon of 1958. It was the year I turned thirteen. The turbulence of childhood morphed into all-out warfare as the struggles with my mother escalated. Being a housewife and a
Frigid droplets of rain pour from the sky, cascading like tears from a heartbroken god. I rush through the downpour, using my school binder as a shield from the elements. Ahead of me lies the computer lab, a massive
Each of us exists in the tension between Eros and Thanatos. Eros is the life impulse, procreation, our survival instinct. Thanatos is the pull of death. Every living creature feels this pull because it is where we will all,
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