…I want so badly for us to crash headfirst into a wormhole and time travel back to sunset. Orange and pink and persimmon. The glitches we saw in the sky, the almost-clouds. A time when time wasn’t time at all but all color and calm.… more
…I want so badly for us to crash headfirst into a wormhole and time travel back to sunset. Orange and pink and persimmon. The glitches we saw in the sky, the almost-clouds. A time when time wasn’t time at all but all color and calm.… more
It has been a hard year, or so your new therapist likes to say, filling the silence in her small office, two padded chairs facing one another over a small table, after you’ve spilled some new petty frustration about the kids, your girlfriend, your life. She sips her water and peers over at you kindly.… more
The snow kept falling and we curled up tighter together as the days stayed dark. I held my daughters close and we laughed so hard our stomachs hurt.… more
In Texas, football is a religion, with elaborate ritual and fanfare. I was scrawny in middle school; one of the shortest, skinniest and weakest kids in town, I still laced up the cleats each fall. If you happened to be good at the game, say a quarterback or running back with speed and agility (i.e.,… more
I might be making a mistake, but at some point you have to be ready to look foolish. I watch you step on beat, watch Shane spin you and smile. … more
Boxelder bugs swarmed the cinder block wall at our back while we waited for our ride. A few fluttered, struggling to stay aloft in the thick air, their orange-red wing veins flashing. I cupped my hands, gently caught one. … more
I clung to the hope these people brought into my life: hope for a future full of grace and dignity; hope for a future with endless possibilities and knowledge at my fingertips; and hope for a life beyond poverty and pain—that included endless mounds of chocolate and cups of Earl Grey. … more
Why, then, is it so grotesque to imagine writing about writers living lives and writing? I’ll tell you. It’s because no one wants to read about writers living lives and writing, least of all writers, who are the last readers. I’m told.… more
Florida was like a page of loose leaf. Nothing and everything possible simultaneously. … more