The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Spill
“There is a point at which mourners become weak. When they crack and spill. That is what I was waiting for.”
...more“There is a point at which mourners become weak. When they crack and spill. That is what I was waiting for.”
...moreI am shitting my pants. Totally. Completely. And … well, figuratively. One night before my travel partner and I are scheduled to fly to Mumbai, she ditches me for Berlin. The city, not the band. So I am alone in Ethiopia, having second and third and fourth thoughts about heading to India solo.
...more