NONFICTION

so real it’s almost unbelievable
The Final Fruits

My mother has been dead for two hundred and forty-three days. I’ve had plenty of things in my refrigerator for longer.

Rose By Any Other Name

Kate Winslet always reminded me of my mom. Maybe that’s why, even to this day, I get defensive of Rose from Titanic when people call her stupid or shallow…

Big Sur Impossible

How do you even know when you’re there—at the epicenter?

Teeth and Boyfriends

With great reluctance, I agree to meet a cousin for an outside lunch…

First Boyfriend

I run with a pack of older boys from our neighborhood, the only girl.

Finding My Fix

I slumped in front of a massive desk, a passive patient corroded with failure and dread.

Crossing the Square

My dad was an inveterate theatergoer in the old country where theatre reigned supreme before the Soviets, under the Soviets, after the Soviets.

Alan Rickman and the Mermaids of the Conch Republic

Sound engineers believe Alan Rickman possessed the perfect male voice. Early acting teachers told him he sounded like he was speaking from the back of a drainpipe.

Smile.

At twenty, the world is yours because you’re beautiful. But never acknowledge your beauty, or it makes you a bitch.

Reconnaissance

another self emerges between assignments, to follow the dog into winter dusk and watch the snow fall. Not sociable, but perceiving

Athena, the Octopus, Solves a Puzzle

The new octopus at the children’s aquarium was named Athena, and as we waited for her to emerge, I thought of the almost-too-faint second line on the pregnancy test three days before.

A History of Love In the Void

It was an engagement of secrets in sunlit spaces.

What Do People Do All Day?

What possible use is this lengthy childhood? Surely there would be a selective advantage in maturing earlier, so children are less vulnerable to predation and mothers are freed up to have more children?

Ruminations

Through the dusty window in my parent’s bedroom, I watched the neighbor’s cattle graze.

Forest Walk on a Friday

Every time I come to the forest, it’s different, but so am I.

Wilderness

The land here is scarred and wrinkled.

Your Family (Search) History

No matter how you try to ignore it, you look like him. You look like your father.

artwork with Venus
Light Pencils

The weeks go like this: accepting, horny, hopeful, sad. I’m four different people trying to establish one perspective on a major life event – on the creation of life itself.

The Shiksa Choice

The hamantaschen have followed us from apartment to apartment, all of the kitchens dark, cramped, cluttered.

Post Pregnancy Examination (Shortened Form)

Infant’s Name: A
Delivery Date: August 1, 2002

Share some abandon.

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