By Judy Bolton-Fasman The first time I had to socially distance, I was six years old with a severe case of strep throat. “Look at those pustules,” the doctor muttered as he gagged me with a tongue depressor. To this day, I cannot stand eating […]
By Suellen Meyers Zelda Diaz-Blitzstein sent me a text. I’m so sorry to have to tell you your Dad passed away last night. Manny was my biological father, but he wasn’t my dad. Zelda knew him much better than I did. She’d been married to […]
By Heidi Fettig Parton Nick Flynn is telling this group of writing conference attendees how the French use the term recit in place of memoir, but I can’t focus on what he’s saying. I can’t because, if you don’t know, Flynn is rather swoon worthy. […]
By Maria Smith We’re at 30,000 feet. Terry is sitting in the window seat reading before he asks to get up to stretch. Less than a minute after standing, he’s having spasms in his diaphragm, his body is writhing. I need to quickly get him […]
By Erin Binney The proverbial blank page. I’ve been caught in a staring contest with it more times than I can shake a Paper Mate pen at. Except these days, rather than a page, it’s usually a blank screen. For me, the blank screen is […]
By Amy Stonestrom Get dressed Make the bed Do another load of laundry Disinfect the knobs Walk the dog Ask if the sun will finally shine today Plan dinner (or breakfast or lunch) Think about the time Dad slumped over his plate at the Sunday […]
By Christine Brooks Inside a drop of rain, in this place ofdrowned granite & smoothcobble looking out, from melancholy tearsblown infrom theIrish Seagolden Kings walk amongusas freely as those paleshadowsthat have most unwillinglygoneahead if only, to walk ushome not a mindful breathaway,like the coos from unseenbirdsin […]
By Melina Rudman I settled self-consciously into the wide, silky blue band and waited for class to begin. It had been months since I had participated in a yoga class, and aerial yoga would be taking it to a whole new level. I closed my […]
By Lisa Werhan Dear Writing, Babe, I’m breaking up with you. I mean it this time. For real. This is goodbye. We’re through. Over. Done. It’s not you. It’s me. You, my dear Writing, are fascinating, noble, enigmatic, witty, and endlessly intriguing in your myriad […]
By Vana Nespor When I first arrived in New England, I believed that human beings fell into two totally incompatible categories: People of Place and Interlopers. People of Place fit neatly, or haphazardly, or wickedly into the interdependent tapestry of their communities. They paused in […]