Horrible, Thanks for Asking
“How are you? How are you doing,” I asked my friend. I asked because I cared and because this is
Tag: creative nonfiction
JK, Right?
FADE IN EXT. TRANSFER STATION (AKA. THE LOCAL DUMP), RURAL TOWN—DAY A WOMAN in her “thirty-tens,” but often mistaken for
Even Longfellow Got the Blues
Every neighborhood has a party house. In the quiet, tree-lined streets just blocks away from Harvard University in the 1850s,
Thoreau Back
I spend twenty minutes wandering around a paved path that loops up over several short grassy hills trying to find
The Cost of Compassion
I heard the woman yelling before I saw her. I looked up from where I sat in my parked car