By the time Kate could remember, he’d already begun drinking gin and tonics and selling copy machines, and sometimes going out on deep sea fishing boats when business was slow. And on days when he was out of work, and her mother couldn’t take it anymore, she’d say, “Everyone out!”
I wander down a street where a gypsy woman in black sings a cante jondo, tremulous and pulsating, from a terraza draped in laundry three flights up.
I took a stroll down a snow melted path by the Rancocas Creek with my love. We wore invisible red silk threads wrapped around our wrists in honor of our fated devotion as we meandered through a brown, sleeping field. Tiny sparrows crunched under brush on broken sticks. And the whoo of a gentle wind... Continue Reading →
It's been a while since I've written, with all the changes that have occurred recently and all, I simply haven't had the time or the inclination to sit down and write. I have also been putting a lot more focus on my other blogs, and so this one has somewhat fallen by the wayside. But... Continue Reading →
Listening to the hallowed thump of my father's fingers on the wood, the tiny squeak of the tuning pegs pulling tension on the strings, my two brothers and I gazed like giddy, perfect Buddhas into the hollow bodies of our parents' Martin guitars from our spot on the floor at their feet. And we watched... Continue Reading →
Look up, man. Not down. A man with blood on his knuckles and his eyes on some weird kind of crack is riding the Metro. There is a homeless woman swathed in black who asks for centimes. A Peruvian immigrant down the calle Monte Perdido yells at her two sons, making them cry; neither of her children are wearing... Continue Reading →
Eight months ago, after you left, I learned how to make soap. In fact, I uncovered the buried truth that adding any number of additives will not, after all, interfere with saponification, and that soap is actually a paradox. It takes oil to remove oil. And so eight months ago I came up with this... Continue Reading →
So, I had to scrap the idea of going deeper into the heart of Morocco, due to time and lack of resources, but I sold the Audi and by God, I'm going to Spain this summer. I am excited about two things: summer camp for the boys and mine and D's voyage into the south... Continue Reading →
It was late August. She lay down in bed for a long while in the morning with Henry, feeling the start of the day already heavy with heat and humidity. The cicadas were singing their summer song in a woosh through the trees. It was a perfect day for the cicadas; still and warm, and laden with the quiet tick of timelessness.