the glass box

I’ve made a mistake with the photojournalist that I can’t begin to understand. And after I leave his house this morning I call my brother, who doesn’t answer, then my ex, and almost start to cry. In calling, I think I just want to hear the voice of someone who knows me, who will help […]

the two of us

Twenty-one days ago we’d never met. “Wanna get married?” he asks today. “What?” I ask. I heard him, but you know. “Huh?” he mimics back. I smile. A lot can happen in three weeks. In four dates. “It’s an eventuality,” he says now. I don’t respond. “Inevitable.” I like this one, how confident he is […]