When All The German Fell Out Of My Head
In every tunnel, because the darkness turns the windows into mirrors, people in the train gaze at their own reflection. They pose, pat their hair, examine their own eyes. As … Continue reading
July 29, 2013 · 18 Comments
The Ideal
The young mother held her daughter’s hand as the tiny girl leapt off the curb, hustled ahead, then slowed down–her mother’s arm was a satisfactory tether. The open-air shopping center … Continue reading
June 4, 2012 · 7 Comments
The Nice Thing About Strangers 