it can always start over

So we move to a large and isolated house, with marble floors that are cold on my bare feet, and life starts over again. If there is one aspect of my story of which I am certain, it is this: It can always start over. I don’t know how to talk about the life I’m […]

oft lost

It’s Christmas in the year 2017 and I’m in two-bedroom suite in a tall hotel. Outside the the snow falls, which makes my son happy and therefore makes me happy. I sit with my morning coffee next to the window, beyond which a gondola runs the length of a mountain’s incline. I find the gondola’s […]

our legacy

This week my son, Django, went off with his dad, The Piranha, to the islands. This was a big step, I guess. Because there have been years, off and on, that the two wanted very little to do with each other. And that’s in addition to those years when I shunned The Piranha altogether, finding […]

the debutante

One of my earliest memories is of being carted back to Kmart in a borrowed Cadillac and being hoisted up on the counter so that I could confess to the manager that I shoplifted a Bonne Bell Lip Smacker, in cotton candy flavor. Mum encourages me to wear a wonderful slip-lined tulle dress for the […]