On the false spring day, I walk home after brunch, shedding my scarf, opening my jacket. On car windshields I notice pages placed under windshield wipers. Pages torn from a book. I try to read as I pass. About the Author. A Japanese surname. Across the street a man is…
My oldest friend is visiting home, and we spend the afternoon discovering new pathways in the park, discovering washed-up bones and watching people fish in the river. We follow that river and find a spot to sit, and we sit talking for a very long time, as we tend to…
1) A long morning walk with my dog, remembering what a cool breeze feels like. 2) Reading the paper at my parents' kitchen table. Opening my laptop to write. 3) The familiar sounds of my childhood home - the fridge humming, the kitchen floor creaking, an upstairs door closing as…
