Notes from *Iceland, August 18, 2018 Sitting in the airport, listening to Sigur Rós and a reading a book, “The Almost Nearly Perfect People,” feeling quite the same. This moment is almost, nearly…
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The snow makes crunching noises beneath my boots. The air is crisp and when the wind blows, bitterly cold, burning my cheeks. There are no tracks. The houses in the neighborhood are…
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Temperance, hand in hand with violence, create some magnificent scenery. There is a resonance in my heart as we pass through the barrenness of the desert, letting the wind whip through our…
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The mosquitoes here don’t carry malaria, and I can’t seek refuge from the persistent bed bugs in his dark and cool apartment, eyes probing mine, slight smile on his lips.…
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My sister is coming home from Mexico today. It’s been over a year since my other sister and I left her in the bustling city of Guadalajara and…
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This is my third time coming back to Paris. The first time I celebrated my 26th birthday in Paris with a soggy baguette and Joe Purdy in my ears while the rain…