The Swing in the Backyard

The Swing in the Backyard

I was using my fingernails to crack open some cardamom seeds while the green tea leaves boiled in the water on the stove. The sun was setting and the sky was an eerie shade of blue green. The first rain of the season had cleaned the roads and whatever little snow that...
The Dying Tradition of Condolence

The Dying Tradition of Condolence

This morning, as I packed my books away into my bag and walked out of the classroom, I happened to join a friend in the hallway as we headed in the same direction. “How’re you holding up, S?” I asked. “Fine, I think.” Then she told me...
Raised in the Hands of Love

Raised in the Hands of Love

There are moments when I feel insignificant and this feeling of unimportance often results in a phase of ingratitude that, upon retrospect, is shameful. Insignificant. Unimportant. Ungrateful. Shame. Powerfully weighted feelings of experience. In the moment(s), these...
Part II of Reclamation Therapy

Part II of Reclamation Therapy

Heartbreak is simply the aftershock of a very big love. There is nothing sadder in life than a heart that was not broken at all. Jann Arden Precisely forty-four days later, a tidal wave of nothingness hit her again. The nothingness was composed of some shrapnel made...
At the Spectacle of Ambitious Humanity

At the Spectacle of Ambitious Humanity

  It is a Friday evening and a cold wind is blowing outside. Though its only the middle of September, the remnants of the first snow of the season are still present along shaded sidewalks. Yellowed leaves frozen to a crisp are fluttering and the sky is a strange...
Part I of Reclamation Therapy

Part I of Reclamation Therapy

She placed her faith in people, in places and in things, which is why her ultimate condition was that of misery. Misery of being. There was a high that lasted eight days and before she saw it coming, it came down crashing on her—the ‘it’ being the façade...