Original writing, unassigned, unprompted
“I envy your grey hair,” says Tom.
We are walking down the street, Tom, two french ladies, and I, surveying the neighborhood, chatting, our pairings rearrange occasionally. Now Tom is on my embellished side, and, apparently, he’s been checking it out. Continue reading “Grey Hair”
Here, I give you permission
to take space,
to speak…
…slowly,
to breathe…
…as you connect in silence,
to feel…
…whatever,
to receive,
to be awkward,
to be wrong,
to be glorious.
Until you accept the permission, I give you orders.
“For some people, work is everything,” says Ra. “I like my job, and I took all the right steps to get where I am, but I really just do this to support my family.”
(As an aside, our job is up there on at least one list of The 10 Best Jobs.)
“What would you do if you didn’t have to work?” I ask. Continue reading “The Watchmaker”
My apartment building has a roof access. It’s a three story building in a low part of the city, and you can’t see the ocean from the roof, but you can see over plenty of rooftops.
When you retreat into the darkness, lock the doors, block the windows, make a home there, your senses get attuned to the darkness. You recognize the other darkness lurkers and hiders as your kind. Continue reading “How to Become the Light”
Love letters understated 