Category Archives: prose

Perspectives

I’ve been thinking a lot about perspectives lately maybe because my son has just graduated from High School and would soon be leaving home. With this leaving, for the first time in the last twenty years, I would be completely … Continue reading

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Happy Mother’s Day, Ah May.

First memory: A large bedroom. Four beds in a row next to each other. You told stories at night. You always had the sweetest voice. We lied on the bed underneath the mosquito nets listening about the little princesses. There … Continue reading

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Self

That was only four years ago, a brief span of time in a lifetime. Looking at her now, she looked so young. I didn’t know it then, of what I know now. That I looked so young, enough to pass … Continue reading

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2017

Fuck 2016! I hear this phrase a lot as the year came to an end. I would nod along when I hear this from friends and strangers. The year has been brutal, I would agree, remembering the pre-and post–election devastated … Continue reading

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Things that shouldn’t be discussed

I had three strange dreams last night: one of which required you.  After witnessing the psychopaths slitting the throats of their guests, and massive shortage of food in alternate Japan, I found you in bed. It was an Idyllic little … Continue reading

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adaptation

A tiny shard hitchhiked inside her toe when she stepped on the broken glasses while chasing after a newt on a beach late last year. Her skin adopted the glass, grew around it like a burial mound among the obscure … Continue reading

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What I’ve learned

Love is senseless. It’s a feeling of wanting to possess, even when there is nothing worthwhile to possess. This world is made of people who care and who don’t care. People who care about others are at the risk of … Continue reading

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Phases II

The last train left in the rain. The child wailed when the engine started. He sat on his mother’s lap, weeping. Something in his world had gone awry. It could be a missing nap or a strange routine. “You’re not … Continue reading

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Phases

It’s always the little things that stay with you, even after the cowebbed years. My sister says she still remembers the weight of my children in her arms. The way someone always remembers how a full bucket pulls the hands … Continue reading

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Speaking Candidly of The New Year

“Listen–are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?” ― Mary Oliver Whilst 2013 was a year of loss and grief for our family, 2014 turned out to be a year of spiritual loss for me. We began … Continue reading

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