The Hartwells
Page 3 of 69. Newest first.
Continuing
Forty-eight hours ago I was lying on the floor of this apartment with Alex, unable to sort a single archive file because we kept ending u...
Alex came over at noon with the stated intention of helping me organize the next phase of the heritage archive coordination. I made coffe...
Jake left before I was awake this morning. He does that sometimes — early shift, out the door before six, barely a sound. I’ve gotten use...
It started with a perfectly normal book. A real one, borrowed from Margaret last week — she pressed it into my hands at the end of one of...
Carmen came over this afternoon under the official pretense of helping me go through the next round of archive coordination materials — I...
Called Abuela Rosa at two in the afternoon because I just wanted to hear her voice. That was the whole plan. Check in, catch up, ten minu...
It started because it was hot. Not unbearable — the building situation is mostly resolved now, so I’m not living through the disaster of ...
Three o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, Sarah texted that she was ‘in the neighborhood’ and wanted to drop off something she’d borrowed. Tha...
Margaret came over this afternoon with a tin of those sesame cookies she always brings — the ones I keep telling myself I’ll only eat two...
Eight in the morning on a Sunday and I am sitting in the middle of my living room floor surrounded by archival boxes like I am the main c...
