A Street Vendor in the Time Square by Jose Juniel Rivera-NegronThe Weight of the Daily
I keep a small, tarnished brass key in a velvet pouch, though I have long since forgotten which door it once opened. It is heavy for its size, worn smooth by the friction of a thumb that is no longer here to hold it. We spend our lives tethered…
The Mirror of the Earth
I often think that we spend our lives walking on the ceiling of a world we rarely bother to look at. We are so preoccupied with the pavement beneath our boots, the grit of the sidewalk, and the urgent rhythm of our own footsteps that we forget…
The Weight of Stone
I keep a small, smooth river stone on my desk, worn down by years of water and friction until it fits perfectly into the hollow of my palm. It is heavy for its size, a dense anchor that reminds me of how much time it takes to shape something…