My parents had initially planned to arrive in Basel in mid-February, just after the birth of their 10th grandchild, but my father’s recovery from a pacemaker operation delayed their visit.…
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“Do you think I haven’t seen what you just did?” My grandma said as I jumped, startled by her voice. I tried to ignore her as she approached the table,…
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Creative Nonfiction / EssayFamilyPodcastsWalking with Tres Horny Boys; Finding narrative comfort in re-listening to The Adventure Zone: Balance podcast
Magnus Burnsides plaintively asks Paloma, “Did—did I make the right choice?” and I found myself sniffling, blaming it on the fresh chill as I walked through a swirl of dying…
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* * * dirge for the bald eagle for vesta knee deep in galoshes and untamed chocolate mouth, i puddle among the rapids. ________our guide points to the east…
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“This all looks very good, Mr. Epping,” said the worn man in the similarly worn brown leather chair as the tip of his nose peaked the sheet of paper Jackson…
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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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I wonder if there is an afterlife. Nancy believed in it, but she doesn’t seem to be cooperating. My friend Carrie tells me her dead partner Judy moved a chair…
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This is how one story goes: My PopPop’s PopPop and his family fled Romania sometime in the decades leading up to the holocaust, leaving behind land and family and lives…
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On Route 17M, heading toward New Jersey for Aunt Mary’s wake, my father asks me to keep an eye on the pond at the Goshen exit. At 70 mph, I…
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* * * And I wish for a moment, a moment to breathe. There is my teenage son, his knee bouncing under the kitchen table; my father, calling voicelessly for…
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When I make bread, I focus on the feel of the dough, the windowpane test for gluten elasticity, the delicate question of adding a pinch of flour. Will it turn…
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I knew it was a long shot, but I had to do it. It was now or never. I promised Joe, my agent of thirty years, two weeks. “Two weeks!”…
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Sifting under strawberry vines each week, I lift their long, leafy tendrils with god knows what on the end. Various shapes, colors, and stages of rottenness, or not. I’d planted…
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Lessons I’ve Learned From a Woodpecker: Save your brain Get to work Be loving Be free I had a few concussions when I was younger. I feel like we are…
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