TORCH: My American Playground
I left the car by the roadside and ran up the slope, in tears now, reaching the picnic tables and swings and, as bright and vivid as in my dreams, my purple-shaped climbing frame, exactly as I remembered it.
...moreI left the car by the roadside and ran up the slope, in tears now, reaching the picnic tables and swings and, as bright and vivid as in my dreams, my purple-shaped climbing frame, exactly as I remembered it.
...moreThis Tuesday was, by no means, a good news day. The night before was the tragedy in Manchester, England, at which a suicide bomber killed children at a pop concert. But, sad as it is, that is not the story that moved me, on this beautiful Tuesday, to tears. I care, but at this point […]
...moreTurning onto my street and looking south I feel the ground drop beneath me every time—I turn the corner and the sidewalk falls. I feel invisible then, as if I’ve vaporized.
...moreNearly a decade ago, on what was then my first and only day in Paris, I saw a dead person for the first time.
...moreAs the world continues to mourn the 12 dead in Wednesday’s terrorist attack on the controversial French magazine Charlie Hebdo, satirists, cartoonists, writers, and editors have come together with PEN America to stand against the attack and bolster the necessity of free expression, even when that expression is offensive to some. From PEN America’s statement: Peaceful […]
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