Reflections

September 12, 2017

I spent this morning trying to fix a wobbly chair in the kitchen. I kept misplacing my screwdriver, and the coffee I...

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September 12, 2017

I keep a pressed yellow tulip inside a heavy dictionary, its edges now translucent and brittle as a moth’s wing. It was...

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September 11, 2017

I burned my toast this morning, a small, charred reminder that I was rushing again. I stood by the counter, scraping the...

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