“Guys, come on. We’re late, we’re late!” I attempt to tie two shoes at once, the clock ticking, my children doing everything in their power to make us late for our train. “Mommy, where going?” asks my toddler, and I again reflect on the impossibility of getting two...
Photo by Steve Heap / Shutterstock.com My hometown has suspicioustaste in communal art: there is a rollercoaster by the river—the one that flooded its banks in 2010, whichno one remembers unless you were there; unlessyou felt water pouring two days straight and...
Photo by Efy96001 – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0 golden locks rested on Elnora’s shoulders / how wild wind could bring a blue linen skirt to life / the fiddle Edward played cried out to her / carried over prairies / until its voice turned raspy / close-cut sleeves...
Photo: U.S. Forest Service We end up on the steady tip of Sex Peak, Montana (I have been many times before) and set the candy-yellow trailer against the caramelizing sunset. He brings out an untouched Cab Sav, pops it, and I watch flowers grow out of the bottle and...
I didn’t expect so many children to fill Hancock Park mid-morning on a Tuesday. They are likely spillover from the nearby Children’s Museum, whirling like metallic tops across patches of yellowed grass. A neon-pink posse in matching camp shirts surround the lake pit,...
Photo: Paul Ruta You can see them from the highway but you have to look. They seem black in the distance, backlit in winter by the low Amarillo sun. We pull over and we’re the only ones here. It’s colder than Texas is supposed to be and I zip my jacket against the...
