The Weight of the Tether
There is a quiet physics to the way we lead one another. We often imagine that to move through the world is an act of singular will, a solitary march toward a horizon of our own choosing. Yet, look at the way a hand rests upon a lead, or the…
The Map of Our Years
I was looking in the mirror this morning, trying to find a stray hair, when I noticed a new line near my eye. It wasn't there last month. I traced it with my finger, thinking about how we spend so much time trying to smooth things over, to…
The Path Through Silence
I keep a small, rusted iron key in my desk drawer that no longer fits any lock I own. It is heavy, cold to the touch, and carries the faint, metallic scent of a house that has long since been reclaimed by the weeds. Sometimes, I turn it over…