https://open.spotify.com/track/3pe2HrrcBCRPHzvVvVfQpC?si=60f6c2028aba48f3 A touch on the sugar pot. Tinkling beans. The slow wind-up to full-blown distress as the water boils over and then pour pour pour pour. Pour. Two ounces for the swirling, grainy green mess that's already a goner. One hundred and fifty ounces for the painfully hot metal and then back on the stove. …
What would Skeletor do, indeed?
I’ve signed an NDA so don’t ask me what or how but you could swing a “How does it make you feel?”
Reflections on a woman destroyed
It's taken me a very long time to read this collection of fiction by Simone de Beauvoir, called The Woman Destroyed. I picked it up in Chicago's Pilsen neighborhood a year ago. It was a wet and snowy day - what the weather app would call a "wintry mix" - and we ended up in …
Spitballing
Logging back onto any online platform I used for writing in college or high-school feels like opening up my old bedroom closets - friendly and unfriendly reminders of who I was and who I still am. There's something predictable about hating what I thought was fashionable as a 15 year-old, and what I thought was …
Enough, Enough, Enough
When Jo stepped on pavement, everyone complained about the afro-pop that trailed behind her. Each beat was a kick in the shin, disinviting the people she had come to know and sending bat signals to the family she was fighting for. ---------- Bus rides to New York City lasted 4 hours on good days and …
in medias res 
