The Weight of Old Soles
I spent an hour this morning clearing out the back of my closet. I found a pair of boots I haven’t worn in years. The leather is scuffed, and the heels are worn down at an angle that tells the story of how I used to walk when I was younger,…
The Weight of Shadows
We walk through the streets of our own making, yet we are rarely present in them. There is a distance between the stone beneath our feet and the thoughts that pull us elsewhere. We pass one another like ghosts, heads bowed, anchored by the…
The Mirror in the Reeds
I spent this morning trying to fix a leaky faucet in the kitchen. I kept staring at the water pooling in the basin, watching how it caught the reflection of the window and the swaying branches of the oak tree outside. It was strange how the…