Loft

Loft

I left her at the foot of his bed. The little beeps and the machines and the tubes all doing what they could. I walked through the doors and out of the hospital. I walked to the cab and into the airport. I walked on the plane and away from our life. It made me a...
Who Loves You

Who Loves You

She kept no attachments. Sentimentality an affliction of the weak. The unable-to-move-forward. She absolutely had to be able to pack up and get out at any time. She loved the feeling of slipping away and relished the evaporating tactile memory she left behind in the...
Summer Fingers

Summer Fingers

The thing that I love to do the most is to get right down on my knees, spread my fingertips apart and stick them into the grass just above the ground. Rush my fingers in between the weave of roots and blades. The clumps feel true in my hands, it’s like I’ve got the...