Posts in Creative Nonfiction
Bad Days

The bad days still come on fast as summer storms—violent and unannounced. They might be beautiful if I could find shelter. The air clings to me like drying blood, the empty edges blur and the space around my body shakes. My breath comes in gasps, no longer natural, but consciously made. Each inhale is a decision to live. Have you ever felt a code red in your bones?

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One More Revolution

I only possess things that hold history, specifically a history that I know intimately and played a role in creating. Yes, I do own certain kitchen appliances and pairs of jeans that lack a nostalgic backstory, but for the most part, as I look around this sparsely furnished room, I can recall where and when and why most of the eclectic objects within eyeshot have survived the many purges of my recent years. Trinkets and tokens, stones and statues, coasters, whiskey glasses, lamps, pillows and pictures... I live in a menagerie of memory.

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