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Essays

Honey

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That cafe smelled like fresh-baked bread and cookies, and the baristas were all women with warm, soft hands who called everyone — the Senator, the mothers, the babies, the businessmen — Honey. So many baristas would have called you Honey, David. And swayed along with you when they played Perfume Genius during the slow hours. The day after someone […]

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Cure for Last Night’s Leftovers

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Let’s be clear: There is no hangover cure. Anyone who claims to have never had a hangover is either a) a liar, b) a teetotaler, or c) a responsible drinker. I’m none of those things, most days, despite effort, and the number of times I’ve searched for “how to cure a hangover” in the harsh light of a weekend morning is embarrassing the older I get, so manage your expectations.

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From the Archive: The Dark All Around Us

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There is still light in the dark. This is the paradox that Little Bear has to accept in order to fall asleep.

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The Flowers You Left Us

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Looking at the two stems housed in a water glass on my kitchen table, it strikes me that “in the ground” means opposite things for flowers and people. As long as a flower remains in the ground, it lives. “Poppies are incredible,” my friend Monika, a floral designer, tells me. “Even after they’re cut they […]

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Play for Camera

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I want to tell her that Hunter is Hunter and Daisy is Daisy and both should be allowed to breathe. I want to tell her I know the instinct to split yourself in half, too, that I know the violence required to hold your true self in shadow, that I have another name I only dare whisper.

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From the Archive: Unbound

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It’s always been ground glass, scraping against my insides. I imagine a light held to the place where I open would illuminate a mess of torn flesh, throbbing red-wet.

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Turning the Lights On

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I feel guilt in the not good enough I carry alongside the not bad enough.

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Picasso Shares His Screen

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The faces of the students appeared one by one, both there and not.

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Into Thin Air (The Women on Flight 305)

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The only thing different about Dan Cooper was his bomb.

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