Reflections

August 16, 2021

In the deepest part of the year, the world undergoes a strange, quiet subtraction. We are accustomed to the clutter of summer—the...

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August 13, 2021

When I was seven, my grandmother kept a bowl of dried husks on the windowsill in Enugu. They were brittle, translucent things...

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August 13, 2021

There is a specific quality to the light just before a storm breaks in the high north, a heavy, bruised yellow that...

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