On Calling All Soldiers ‘Heroes’
The stakes are too high for emotionally-driven posturing.
A Literary Mixtape, Volume 3
A man standing in his saddle in the half-lit half-alive dawn banged on the shutters and called two names. He was just a hat and a cloak levitating in the grey plume of his own breath, but when he called we came. That much is certain — we came.
I Want A Tuesday Kind Of Love
A Tuesday kind of love is this: commuting to work knowing that someone cares about what you’re going to have for lunch; understanding that you do not have to be your dynamic, charming, weekend self this time; this time you can butcher sentences and make bad jokes and trip over thin air and it won’t change anything.
Things I Learned At Brunch: Memorial Day Edition
Arguments can devolve pretty quickly at the brunch table, even in the presence of bacon.
