Reflections

October 12, 2016

There is a language that precedes speech. It is found in the way a child holds their breath when a stranger appears,...

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October 11, 2016

There was a heavy wool sweater my father wore every winter, the kind that smelled of damp woodsmoke and the specific, metallic...

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October 11, 2016

I remember sitting in a small kitchen in Envigado, watching my grandmother prepare the afternoon meal. She didn’t use a recipe; she...

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