A good friend of mine, way back in the day, was pulled over on his way to an early morning hockey practice. A “new car” scented tree hung from the rear view mirror in his spotless Acura. “License and registration?”… Read More ›
life
I’m Just Seine
The repurposed barge pushed us along the Seine. Intermittent raindrops peppered the river and gave way to the as-advertised romanticism that surrounded us. The cool air was tempered by the moment: we were exactly where she wanted us to be. … Read More ›
Square Routes
I like to write and think about the little things. I can’t help but think that there are endless avenues that lead towards a more satisfying moment, hour, or even day. They are small little details that pack a big… Read More ›
O Grity Seen
Sometimes, if you look hard enough at a word, you can find hidden meaning between and among its letters. Don’t just break down the prefix, root, or suffix, or try to dig into its linguistic history. Instead, stare at the… Read More ›
Say Hello to My Little Friends
Let’s face it, at times we abandon our friends. They are incredibly important to us; they are part of us, yet days build on days and before long we stop mid-step and realize we have done it again: we have… Read More ›
Cheeseburger in Tuscany
The sun burnt my skin, sour candy formed one of those strange bump things on my tongue, and even, just once or twice, a rogue glass-too-many hurt my head the next morning. Too much of a good thing can be,… Read More ›
Miss Quito Was Here
We swatted in a midnight haze at a mosquito with a familiar craze. Could it be the same one that punished us for my excessive limoncello session the eve before our wedding? Same place, more or less,… Read More ›
The Daily Rind
Slice up a lemon and put it in your tea. Go ahead, do it, and see what happens. Try and take a sip without saying “ahh.” I’m telling you, it’s impossible. I’m not saying lemon is the greatest thing since sliced-other-things…. Read More ›
Stream of Words
Stream of conscious. Streams are a conscious thought, now. I used to collect tadpoles with my brother. I used to pretend the lazy water turned into rapids and my tadpoles were saved from impending death-by-rock-and-water. Just maybe, I saved them…. Read More ›
In Memory of My Sister (Two Years)
The world’s greatest poet couldn’t tell you what the last two years meant to me. The best photographer couldn’t paint a picture to show you how that time lived through me. Even I, the person with the view and ear… Read More ›
eternal Domnation 