A Sunday morning, and the city streets are still half asleep, lulled by the breeze. I am walking with a friend in a neighborhood new to me. An older woman calls good morning from her porch, where she has settled with a cigarette, vice on the Lord’s Day. She looks…
The other day, a post on Threads stopped me mid-skim. “I am a Japanese woman,” it began. “Here are seven words my language has that English desperately needs.” For a decade now, I have been collecting words from other languages. After years wallowing in English vocabulary like a muddy…
I could never live in the desert. Rain cleans my mind. That soft rinse sluicing down, soothing all that is dry or cracked or withering. Add thunder, and you have catharsis: any violent emotion can be released into that heavenly rage. And there is no comfort quite like cuddling close…