“How are you? How are you doing,” I asked my friend. I asked because I cared and because this is
FADE IN EXT. TRANSFER STATION (AKA. THE LOCAL DUMP), RURAL TOWN—DAY A WOMAN in her “thirty-tens,” but often mistaken for
The first week when the world unraveled I went for a run as if it were any other March day.
We’re all brave somewhere. I’m brave on paper. A woman friend of mine recently confronted a man on an airplane.
Even though I didn’t know how to play any type of jazz instrument, when I was a junior in high