Reflections

September 5, 2024

We often mistake joy for a grand, sweeping event, something that arrives with the force of a storm or the weight of...

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September 2, 2024

I keep a small, wooden spinning top in the bottom drawer of my desk, its paint chipped away by the frantic, joyful...

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September 1, 2024

The smell of wet earth after a long drought is a heavy, metallic perfume that clings to the back of the throat....

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