The Quiet Between Us
I was driving home late last night, the kind of late where the radio stations turn to static and the road feels like it belongs only to me. There is a specific kind of loneliness that hits when you are moving through the dark, surrounded by…
The Rhythm of Letting Go
I spent this morning trying to fix a leaky faucet in the kitchen. I kept tightening the handle, convinced that if I just applied enough pressure, the dripping would stop. It didn't. It only made the metal harder to turn. Eventually, I just…
The Weight of Dust
There is a history in the things we grind down. To crush a seed is to release a memory of the earth, a scent that travels further than the hand that held it. In the north, we rely on salt and dried fish, flavors that endure the long frost.…