Hear the quiet incantation of the uncle in the corner, hear my own breath in prostration.
Everyone started to yell at him.
When she gave you a gift she would say: “This was very expensive.”
The rare, forgotten feeling of knowing that someone else, someone responsible, is taking care of life for you.
The thing that Bob G. cared about a lot, and would NOT RELAX ABOUT, was the temperature of beer.
I have discovered that the surest way to end up in a place is to imagine you'll never go there.
I took a picture and captioned it, “This is what transnational loneliness looks like.”
We made a list of all the things we didn’t know: when was the Bronze Age, and what’s steel made of, anyway?
Mile by mile, cookie by cookie, escaping the holidays