The Glue Situation
February third. The brochure said 'bookbinding' and my brain said 'quiet, handmade, satisfying' and both of those things were true. What the brochure did not say, because brochure…
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The Pigeon Held Its Ground
January twenty-third. We were forty minutes into our coffees and the pigeon had not moved once. It had been there when we sat down, a perfectly average city pigeon on the exterior…
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The Good Errand
January twelfth. I had been moving three bags of things toward the door of my apartment since sometime in November. You know how that goes. They were sitting in the hallway doing…
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The First Morning of the Year
January first. The apartment is very quiet in a way it only is when the rest of the city is either asleep or nursing something. I made coffee before I was fully awake, and then I…
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The Loaf Report
December twenty-first. I have flour in a place I cannot explain, and there is a lopsided round of bread sitting on my kitchen counter that I made with my own two hands, and I keep…
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Resting or Finished
December tenth. The question I keep not asking myself is: is it done, or is it just quiet? The windowsill has had the same five things on it since April 2016. The collapsed bowl.…
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The Week After Thanksgiving
November twenty-ninth. The week after Thanksgiving is its own strange weather. Everything feels slightly deflated, the big meal behind you, December not quite arrived yet, the cit…
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The Sunday That Asked Nothing
November eighteenth. There's a version of a day off where you have a list, errands, emails, at least one thing you've been putting off since October. And then there's a Sunday lik…
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What She Chose
November seventh. Carol's letter came on a Thursday and I read it standing in my coat, keys still in my hand. I don't know why I didn't sit down first. Some letters you just read…
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The Group Chat Incident of October 2019
October twenty-seventh. I was trying to text a perfectly reasonable message about whether the climbing gym would be crowded on Tuesday, and my phone, my phone, which I trust, whic…
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