It’s a touted local attraction—Hobo Hot Springs—peeling paint, faded sign, the steps leading into the pool slimed in green. In the changing room, a woman from eight miles down the road strips off her XXL stretch pants and faded cotton panties without shame, as she...
Photo: Corrie Pappas My friend Alberto told me a ghost story once I’ll never forget. He works at the 12th-century Castello del Trebbio, outside of Florence. I wanted to find out more about the Pazzi family, who lived there in the 15th century. They were a banking...
Photo: Luis García, CC BY-SA 3.0 ES, via Wikimedia Commons The square in Lavapiés quarter is a true crossroad, a slippery one, as a matter of fact. It’s a plaza that slides down or up, always depending on your point of view. It’s neither flat nor...
On our last day in Lisbon, he wanted to find an Irish bar so that we could go and watch some rugby match that was on, but we were supposed to be learning to communicate, and like the therapist said, he was supposed to be listening to me and also hearing me. So when I...
Photo by Christy Lorio I could have stayed my ass at home, but I didn’t. It was a chemo week and I had already purchased a back country permit months ago and planned out this Grand Canyon overnight camping trip at Horseshoe Mesa, about three miles down the Grandview...
Like a bronze-colored sky god, he extends his arms to his sides. He bows his head in service to her expansive beauty. He turns to grab his board, but before entering the surf, he marks the sand with his feet—maybe in x’s. He repeats this motion three times as if he’s...
