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Jane
The day she died, the cashier at PCC asked me how my day was going. Welling up, I shook my head and shrugged away the question to stop the tears. Someone I sought out…
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Back to the Books
Is it delusional to go back to school at age 52? Is it naïve to re-enter the workforce at 54? As I begin a two-year plan in hopes of working in conservation and restoration,…
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Camp Med
By the evening of my Monday breakdown, Robin was duly concerned. I’d rarely shown such lack of control over my emotions, usually shaking them off with some semi-productive distraction such as cleaning or running…
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Cozy Birds of a Feather
While the interior of the Doubletree near Sea-Tac airport evokes tones of brown-hued melancholy, I am rather fond of this hotel, particularly the wings of labyrinthine sections surrounded by trees and lifted from the…
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Hatching a New Start
Last Monday I tested out a breakdown of which at its freshest alternated bawling with fighting back tears, as when facing the friendly checkout clerk at PCC. In those brief dry intervals I conjured…
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