I think of my mother on the train. Nichola and I are seated in the last row of the Metro-North on our way home to Larchmont, huddled together as though we’re trying to hide. Nichola rests against my shoulder. Sunlight …
New Fiction
When it rains
It was night. And then it was day. And Mama became the sun.
She never looked so happy. Gliding through the house. Gospel music blasting. Spinning into dances I didn’t recognize.
Her voice vibrated with a rhythm of her making.…
The Last Word
A husband dies on a day like any other day. Open Nutella jar on the counter. The frustration of Tupperware lids that don’t match Tupperware bottoms. A smudge of watery sunlight — the kind that comes in after an early-morning …
Choose Your Own Low-Vision Dating Adventure
1
You met the girl online, on one of those dating sites that asks you a long series of questions about how you feel about messy rooms and vegan food and bondage and politics. You are, the website claims, 95% compatible with her.
