The Weight of What Remains
It is 3:14 am. The house is holding its breath, and for once, I am not trying to fill the silence with noise. There is a specific kind of ache that comes from waiting for things to reveal themselves. We spend our lives standing before walls…
The Sweetness of Slowing Down
I burned my toast this morning. It was a small, stupid mistake, the kind that happens when you are trying to do three things at once while the kettle whistles. I stood there scraping the black bits off into the sink, feeling that familiar,…
The Weight of Our Choices
I spent twenty minutes this morning trying to decide which pair of shoes to wear. It sounds silly, but I stood in my closet holding a pair of worn-out sneakers against a pair of heels I haven't touched in months. I kept thinking about who I…