essays

I am fifteen going on sixteen. It is well-past midnight. Reclined on the sofa bed of the beach bungalow, beneath the thin sheet, butterflies swirl in my sunburned stomach as my music teacher, the maestro bends over, his blue eyes…

The extraction she describes is not always malicious; it often emerges from precarity, ambition, hunger, and the longing to be let inside a world that feels inaccessible. Dunham shows that fracking frequently operates without self-recognition. Those asking for access, connection,…

I see her on the sidewalk, voyaging through town. Even in modest-sized Quickborn, she is out of place, a doddering oldster around whom the rest of the world speeds like a time-lapse film. But her progress is steady, and an…

What’s important isn’t that El Tricolor wins, but that they give us occasion to revel in the stands. Strictly speaking, the crowd is there to celebrate itself. In emblematic fashion, the chant we use to encourage our own is sí…

I was obsessed with their costumes; I wanted a sash embroidered with Celtic knots and a flared velvet circle skirt. (This is likely when my lifelong obsessions with highly specific uniforms began.) I wanted a headful of bouncy curls and…

I won’t look right at him, but I will have noted that he’s wearing a sweater over another shirt, like always. That his hairline has receded even farther in the six or so years since I’ve seen him; the depth…

Now that I am older, I realize how much shame has dictated my own life, from as far back as I can remember, permeating through every action I have taken or been encouraged to take, every memory that has persisted…

After a few more one-liners, it becomes clear István is living in pandemic-era England (he vapes now, etc.) and trying to log on to a Zoom meeting with his therapist

A tight plot of land with poverty gripping the neck of its residents even tighter. The same way America held off on recognizing street gangs as an issue until blood was spilt outside of the hood in 1988 in Westwood…