Crossfit(ting in) for a Cure
Since returning from Guatemala, working out had consistently been a metaphor for both belonging and success. During that time, I had...
A Quiet Summer
The questions in June implied, as they always do, that I should be excited about summer, or at the very least, busy. Since everyone...
Three Necklaces
My first birthday after my brother and sister-in-law were married, I received the second necklace. They mailed the tiny gift in a giant...
Blind Spot
I ease out of the driveway. Even in the winter, it is important to look both ways multiple times. Our country road is posted at 45, but...
Memory is a Requirement
The following is an excerpt from Sol, a middle grade novel. Read more about Tisha B'av . -- I was kneeling when I heard them approach...
Almost August, Again
"How are you?" This was the eternal question from peers. I wrote about how I disliked this question because I found it inauthentic. I...
Eating My Feelings
This week at work, I spent considerable time reading Black AF History: The Un-Whitewashed Story of America by Michael Harriot. My nails...
Zoetic Press-A Next Step
Ultimately, it only takes one sentence. I was caught by this one. Humans are hardwired to tell stories. And we should be listening to...
Nothin' Quite Like Giving Up
Thick, chalk smothered air blows around me. Everything closes in more in the summer. Humidity. Goals. I brace for the lift. Grit is...
Two Lines of Poetry
The book was just one, Of one hundred and twenty Books Assigned to years Two languages Two lines of poetry. I laugh because yesterday I...
