Category: Daily Writing
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Sigh-aura
On the drive to Plant City, I ask you to be my navigator, and make sure you know that I only want to take the back roads. It’s Halloween night and the temperatures are favorably crisp. The sky looks layered like a popsicle, soft blues, pale lavender, and a dusty pink. When we drive by…
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You & Ube & the Sky
You can tell who closed efficiently by the neat rows of chairs, angled just so; other mornings it’s chaos, with paper chef hats and chopsticks scattered for squirrels to drag away.
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The Tower and the Boxer
The night before, the electric in my house kept flickering. One room smelled faintly of smoke. “Costly?” I ask, pushing her to continue.
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Over Halfway with Sealey
I have about nine days left and I’m three ~60 page books behind. Which feels as heavy as running inclines when your legs are done.
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Dear Sally 🎧
“Back then, I didn’t say or do anything I really meant, but there’s some amnesia there. I attended parties and holidays, but I couldn’t tell you what I said to anybody, what I gave or what I got. I was afraid, and inside my apparition I thought I was safe.”
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Seven Days of the Sealey Challenge
I diligently read and became entranced by Heather Christle’s The Trees The Trees. Oh, how I saw myself in her roots and her ruthlessness.
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Calm under the waves
The most genuine smile. Her skin, warm-toned like the almonds she kept in a zip-lock bag—raw, unsalted, chewier than I liked. She was the first vegan I ever met. She’d share her soy nuts and say Yummy! like a child. But we were children.
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Under the Wallpaper
where the newly plain walls smelled of Pear Glacé, a heavy lotion I’d steal and lather over my legs, stretched across celadon carpet that reeked of sneakers worn without socks.
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Window
“A woman is lost in the desert and stumbles across an ice cream stand, and he tells me the gruesome catch: she gets sucked into the machine, her body churning with the soft serve.”
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Current
“It feels like a place you’d stumble into as a kid, or an abandoned post-apocalyptic room that somehow remained untouched. I love how still it is, with only the fans gently going.”
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Via del Biscione 🎧
“They people-watch with their chins cupped in their hands, giggling madly at one another every so often when they stretch their necks far enough to catch each other’s stupid faces.”
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Buh-Bye
She makes real fruit cocktail. Slices the peaches and the pears and adds pitted cherries and her own homemade juice: fresh squeezed lime and honey, she said, “Something else, I can’t remember.”
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Care for a slice?
on hot days, dead flowers & connections & presence amidst distractions.
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Sleep Demon
“I walk through the same moonlit hallway, go into the bathroom with the same flickering light, and look at myself in the mirror.”
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Han Solo
He was the baby of our family, and he wanted to be seen and heard. One boy vs. three girls. I remember one time in the mudroom of our grandparents’ home, I was sitting on the couch and he was being playful. He had this small white bear dressed as a clown with spotted dots…
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Would you excuse me? 🎧
I was about to log my period when it hit me: someday I’ll be an older woman, and my period will be long gone, and I’ll think, “I remember how much I hated that damn period app, and now I miss it.” I stood in my kitchen and marked my thought by saying out loud,…
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The Watermelon Dome 🎧
The outside smells like when we were talking. Musty grass. Spring giving into summer faster than most regions. The gardenia tree next door releasing its scent. Or maybe it’s the perfume I wore last year around this time. Warm and lingering on my neck, rose and blueberry and magnolia. In the watermelon dome, our skin…
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Beth’s Son
Don’t tell my clients, but I have favorites. Scott, age 70, with his Southern-wilted voice and firebrand progressive opinions (a welcome rarity in our book of business), is one of them. He calls me dear, and oh how I love it. I know—I’m supposed to bristle at terms of endearment from older men, but I…
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Ujjayi
dripping into triangle pose,with strong legs anda twisting core,my palm sliding downsore, soft shinsto reach the floor,and my eyes, which ought to be fixedon my opposite hand,are momentarily fixed on youand the way you like to watch.powder-pink carnationsin a cobalt-bluetranslucent pitcher.your unbuttoned,secondhand-ownedNaked & Famous shirt.the conversation you decide to startwhile I’m in the most difficult…
