Chris set the reusable Viegut Funeral Home bag on the conveyer belt, went through security and waited. He wore the only pair of shorts he owned and one of his…
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Typically, I don’t understand the irritatingly persistent appeal of French food. I have little interest in the incessant barrage of cookbooks, the well-lit photos, the homages and journeys all dedicated…
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What is a question that has stayed with you through time, clung to you like an inhalation? What is a question that pulls you out from syncope? For me, it…
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A third eye for sensing danger has planted itself at the base of my skull. It sends out a dull throb when the possibility of bodily harm is perceived. It’s…
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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 had no alternative; I was trapped by language. – Amitav Ghosh, In An Antique Land In early 2009, carrying nine school semesters of French instruction, I landed in…
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Prologue: It’s important to travel after a death, they say, to help process loss from a new vantage point. A month before my wedding in 2016, my mother passed away…
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Plastic containers of dehydrated tofu, dense packets of black bean paste and glass jars of chili oil marked with red simplified characters line the second shelf of the pantry in…
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In Paris I was trying to buy a ticket for the fast train to Angers. Interrupting, the lady at the desk rattled off something, then laughed haughtily. In fractured French,…
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Living in Thessaloniki, Greece, in the shadow of Mount Olympus, it feels only natural to claim being shot by Eros’s arrow. [Cupid only works in Italy and was unavailable –…
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A Full Irish Breakfast On our first morning at the Charleville Lodge in Dublin, I awoke to the sound of maids in the corridor. They beat pillows with dull thunks…
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I’m traveling into unknown territory with a man I just met. His name is Karl, my safari guide here in Namibia, and we’re driving along a coast shaped by death…
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Image Credit: Nsey Benajah One week out from Christmas, I am sitting in a narrow bathtub in my hotel room in Pine Mountain, Georgia. Mildew thrives in the poorly caulked…
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Our tour guide pulls over on the side of the road, a few hundred feet from a gas station. We wait inside the battered white van as a hard rain…
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