Maybe it was the trash. How many rotting meats or open diapers had Georgie and I, insomnia-weary and carb-loaded, tossed into the trash without a thought of wrapping it?
One of the benefits of being broke is that I no longer have to puzzle over whether or not to … More
Once you start thinking of the world as something you don’t already know, time slows down. Encountering a place, any place, is like encountering a person who fascinates you. Someone you might love, if you had the time.
The other day, my son Nehemiah started telling me about the jeromes.
“They fly up in the sky,” he said, his eyes following clouds of imaginary flying objects. “I saw a jerome at the pawk today!”
There was also the remarkable quiet, such that if a Maltese barked softly at one side of the neighborhood, it would wake up the leathery middle-aged divorcee sunning at the community pool on the other.