Rain. Days and nights of wet, thunder, fallen tree limbs. I don’t remember the rains being so long, so violent. Beautiful. Everything is green, lush, fed. Our floors are littered with tiny footprints of mud. Red rivers flow down our sloped front yard. It just keeps raining.
To the office of the security company that guards my home: Dear sirs, I want to thank you for the men and women you have sent to keep me and my family safe, and for your non-stop support of my husband, and I, and our children. From that first day I have felt as light as air, basking in the
What do you see when you see us? What do you see when you see someone? We make a narrative. Create a life. Fill in lines to a story we write, from our perspective, from our vantage point, clothing the person, the persons in our garments, to fit our own story of how life works. Heard too many times in
‘You can’t step into the same river twice,’ they say, they taunt, they warn. It may look the same; the water may feel the same, caressing skin between toes. The smell might even evoke a long ago memory that feels so refreshing you are tempted to submerge yourself fully, try to grab a current, ride it to your past to