(Necklace) Chains
I keep all my earrings and necklaces in a tiny box. I store the box in a drawer. I am gentle. I don't shake it. I don't turn the box...
Home Sweet Home
Home Sweet Home. . . You can stitch it on a sampler and bake it in a pie. What kind of pie are you imagining? Apple? Are apples...
Crossfit(ting in) for a Cure
Since returning from Guatemala, working out had consistently been a metaphor for both belonging and success. During that time, I had...
A Quiet Summer
The questions in June implied, as they always do, that I should be excited about summer, or at the very least, busy. Since everyone...
Three Necklaces
My first birthday after my brother and sister-in-law were married, I received the second necklace. They mailed the tiny gift in a giant...
Blind Spot
I ease out of the driveway. Even in the winter, it is important to look both ways multiple times. Our country road is posted at 45, but...
Memory is a Requirement
The following is an excerpt from Sol, a middle grade novel. Read more about Tisha B'av . -- I was kneeling when I heard them approach...
Almost August, Again
"How are you?" This was the eternal question from peers. I wrote about how I disliked this question because I found it inauthentic. I...
Eating My Feelings
This week at work, I spent considerable time reading Black AF History: The Un-Whitewashed Story of America by Michael Harriot. My nails...
Zoetic Press-A Next Step
Ultimately, it only takes one sentence. I was caught by this one. Humans are hardwired to tell stories. And we should be listening to...
