The freedom I feel while waiting for the bus. I smile and take note. It reminds me of the color mustard and how I wore it for more than a year, strapped to my back, waiting and smoking and leaving and, saying hello again and again.
Browsing Tag
inspiration
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Ha. Right? As if I am going to tell you what to do. Not so much. BUT. I can tell you what I wish people had told me when I was up…
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One of my very first classes as a Freshman in college was called “Dialogue.” It was a required class where we read material like Martin Luther King Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail,”…
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The newly planted Hosta grows tall toward the ceiling in an orange terracotta pot just a shade off from the color of the wall above the fireplace. The dishwasher hums and swishes.…
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This is something I don’t really like to talk about. I don’t like to talk about it because I am reaching and hoping and grieving for the loss of a reality that…
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The broken window in the attic bangs inside the window frame as the wind from the storm passes through. My sleep is restless. I hear intermittent sirens and voices that sound like…