I know the speed limit of every road, but I don’t recognize the new development where the farm used to be. Will I ever come back? And if I do come back, will I forever know the speed limits, or will someday I forget? And if I do forget the speed limits, will I someday…
I arrived back home for winter break on Saturday night. Since then, a lot has happened. Simultaneously nothing has happened. That’s just how home is. The following are thoughts and conversations I’ve had since returning home: “How many people we know will we see at the mall?” “Five.” “What is that?” “Turmeric milk.” “This is the…
The first house she bought was forest green and the size of her thumbnail. She could trade it in with three others for a bright red hotel that would guarantee her victory. The second house she bought was a bit bigger and pentagonal. She placed the tiny doll family inside, encouraging her daughter to speak,…
I am from suburbia where the PTAs are a little too involved where people are dangerously unconcerned about crime where not playing soccer somehow made me inferior where kids have never even seen the inside of a city bus I am from eating Indian curry and Thai stir-fry instead of hamburgers and spaghetti and multiple…
Even once you think you’ve finally moved on, I’ll still find you in the most unexpected places. My favorite book will appear on your shelf. My fingerprints will decorate the condensation on your water glass. Every newscaster will say her vowels like I do. You’ll find my smile tucked behind the mirror and my too-dark…
It’s no golden sunrise, but my house in the early morning has a serene apprehension of the day ahead.
My parents aren’t the type to send care packages. Firstly, they wouldn’t know what to include. At home, we don’t really do nonperishable packaged snacks, which are a huge ingredient in most packages. Homemade cookies? I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my mom bake. Small impulse buys? We’re generally frugal, so we avoid spending money on “stuff” whenever…
As seen in my kitchen: fresh produce.
This is a PSA. I’m home. I’m alive. I’m not sleeping in the Detroit airport. Yesterday I got out of work and immediately called a cab to pick me up at my dorm. I got in, mentioned I was going home to Oregon, and the driver excitedly started asking me a TON of questions about the…
I am from suburbia where the PTAs are a little too involved where people are dangerously unconcerned about crime where not playing soccer somehow made me inferior where kids have never even seen the inside of a city bus I am from eating Indian curry and Thai stir-fry instead of hamburgers and spaghetti and…
Victim to Charm 