What we always knew

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night with an emotional itch I can't get to. My best friend got engaged last month and I'm already writing my speech in my head, every night, while the neighbour's automatic flood light forces its way through our heavy curtains and everything still feels so immediate.… Continue reading What we always knew

What it felt like then and other stories

There were things we wanted then that didn't seem ridiculous. Coffee without the grinds. Ice water just before it turns cool leaving wet rings that soak into the wood. We didn't need the bad with the good, the good was enough, it was plenty. Maybe it was naive to think we could section off our… Continue reading What it felt like then and other stories

Sometimes

He makes soft mewing noises when he sleeps, tossing belly-up, like a puppy. I like him with his eyes closed, when I can shed my pretenses in skins, dirty on the floor, and climb into bed. I curve against his convex and map the paths of freckles on his shoulders until they form diagrams in… Continue reading Sometimes

Reading a Smile

They say your eyes were closed the first time you smiled but they're wide open now, shining, and I can't tell if you're delighted or just scared. Your teeth are clenched but you do that sometimes, when you're excited, sometimes when you don't know what to say. So, I'm hesitating because you might be hesitating… Continue reading Reading a Smile

Losing the Fight

They try their best to convince us not to go, but we go anyway, and the weather is beautiful and the conditions are ideal. We hike uphill for an hour, ignoring coyote warnings and fresh droppings. We don't all live our lives in fear of yesterday's storm. I shrug into my sweater, ocean views on… Continue reading Losing the Fight

Just Peachy

He says, "Do you want to keep this pasta cookbook?" And I say, yes, of course. When what I really mean is keep everything. File it all away, store them on shelves and in stacks and hanging from the wall. Hide them in cupboards, even if they tumble out on top of you, just push… Continue reading Just Peachy

Nothing

I can feel myself peeling off in strips, slowly, so slowly. Lay it on a mannequin like paper-mâché. This here? It will all be okay. That's what we say. Careful not to breathe in too deep, share the air. Our lungs only ever half-filled. I watch my lives walking beside me, all the people I… Continue reading Nothing

If I Was Wrong About Paris

He told me I was wrong, that Paris loved them. He found a city block filled with guitar stores that were all closed. They stood in the Louvre and smiled, whispering, "we're in the Louvre." He told me he liked Mona Lisa's smile. They made friends with fellow travelers and stayed up all night wandering… Continue reading If I Was Wrong About Paris

Going Back: Part 1

The dream weighs on my shoulders like a wet wool coat, scratchy, heavy, uncomfortable. I try to shrug it off, blink my eyes open but something isn't right here in the passenger seat. I look to my left. L, again. My heart vaults into my throat and my pulse races, for the first time in… Continue reading Going Back: Part 1

Waiting

It's easier to be the one to leave. Left behind, routine goes on as normal, my feet ferrying me from place to place. How odd to fall asleep in an empty bed. Strange to walk without the weight of another hand clasped with mine. He leaves me a sweatshirt and I pull it over my… Continue reading Waiting