— the ones that keep us paying attention, chipping away at hard hearts and busy brains: An abandoned gelato shop, its doors smudged and locked, lush pink chairs overturned on tables still visible through the windows. Small dead things that turn out to be trash pinned to the median: a rumpled pillowcase, a knotted plastic … Continue reading Sing songs for the small sadnesses —
I didn’t know, before, that it is possible to be addicted to chlorine. Or maybe that’s why anyone swims: forget the health benefits, the animal joy of cutting through water by force of your own skeleton and skin. The smell is the thing, that timeless sharp tang. Suddenly you are in every pool you’ve ever … Continue reading The Michael Phelps of Feelings
Though not technically a retirement home, where I live is mostly a club for the Friendly Elderly. The paprika-colored brick houses stories of nearly a hundred retirees, some of whom have trudged the same carpet in their condos for over 20 years. The building is a quiet secret, nestled into forest off a main road … Continue reading Coming home
