The Tab Stayed Open
May tenth. The Saturday came. That is really the whole story, but I'll write it out anyway because the alternative was a post about the tab closing itself, and that post would hav…
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What the Onion Skins Left
April twenty-ninth. The fabric is on the kitchen table right now, still slightly wrinkled from being wrung out, and it is the specific pale gold of old paper or dried grass and I…
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The Onion Skins Were Not a Metaphor
April eighteenth. I went. That felt worth stating plainly, because the botanical dyeing demonstration had been sitting in the category of 'things Simone mentioned and I wrote abou…
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The Bird Had Somewhere to Be
April seventh. I set the timer on a shelf by reflex, the way you do when something is too quiet and specific to let go without a record. The pigeon was just sitting there on the l…
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The Block That Comes Back
March twenty-seventh. The Saturday market is back on the block past the hardware store, and I found out the way I find out every year, by walking past it accidentally and then sto…
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What the Sky Was Doing
March sixteenth. The weather did the thing where it is technically spring on the calendar and fully unconvinced about it in practice. Not raining, not not-raining. Just grey in th…
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The Dollar and the Stare
March fifth. The vending machine in the break room took Simone's dollar on Tuesday and gave her absolutely nothing in return. Not a jam. Not an error message. Just silence and the…
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The Ten Minutes That Had to Count
February twenty-second, but I'm filing this from memory, or near enough. There was a stretch that winter where I was carrying the textbook to work in my bag, not because I planned…
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The Call She Already Finished
February eleventh. Simone finished the call before I even sat down. I caught the end of it, not the words, just the particular tone that means family, the one where your voice get…
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The Jar She Didn't Read First
January twenty-fourth, technically, but I'm writing it today because it took me a week to figure out what I was writing about. The farmers market runs through winter here, which m…
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