Image Credit: Daiga Ellaby Before we met in person, we talked on the telephone, matching alto timbres warm in our ears. This was decades before you could spit in a…
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Image Credit: Mercedes Floresislas-Medina “I’m a therapist. I’m a psychotherapist. I’m a mental health professional. Repeat. And breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. Breathe.” I’m frazzled by the lack of sleep…
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There are so many ways to tell a story about desperation, and I have considered them all. I keep coming back to the same dark room in an eighth-floor Chicago…
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image: “Congo Square” by Adéwálé Adénlé For Harold Battiste, Jr. In New Orleans, I saw a reflection of myself in a stranger’s marbled tombstone. I turned away, but in…
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WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental…
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V: Cadenza | Silver-Tipped Swallow: “One of You Leaves First” The story is the same always: one of you leaves first & you both know who it’s going to be.…
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Markham and I were in the hot tub the other day talking about spirituality, nature and art, how these things are what people in the twenty-first century want more than…
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Every summer, our placid village by the Bay of Biscay was invaded by what dad called the Oxford tribe: dons donning white socks under sandals; fresh-faced dissertators in linen shirts;…
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WOVEN is an Entropy series and dedicated safe space for essays by persons who engage with #MeToo, sexual assault and harassment, and #DomesticViolence, as well as their intersections with mental…
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After my mother didn’t wake up; after the snow drifted down to mix with dirt like cream as the gravediggers heaped earth atop her casket; after the drive home to…
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Summer was nascent, and I longed for it nonetheless. I had vowed to myself — it was going to be the best season of my life. I was freshly seventeen…
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1998 It looked hot out, Mom wrote. She’d been in the hospital for a week and a half already, all there had been to do was look out of the…
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Creative Nonfiction / EssayBetween Here and There: Three Generations of Migration from and back to the British Virgin Islands
Don’t you think people are formed by the landscape they grow up in? It formed everything I ever think, or ever do, or am. —Joan Didion Josiah’s Bay is…
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There was nothing to do but climb. The turquoise sky was immeasurable above the yuyuga tree, slim branches swaying and bending with heavy fruit. At ten years old, waking life…