Chinese Finger Trap

Last August, we moved to the Bronx. Our back "yard" is made of concrete, and it has an old rusty fence that surrounds the cracked pavement. My small daughters run around it blowing bubbles, rocking left and right on training wheels, doing yoga on a pink mat covered with crumbled brown leaves. They are barefoot;…

Angry People

There's an asshole in the rear view mirror.   I can see an outline of his face, vague colors and shape, but his anger is focused like a high-powered camera lens. It shows itself in the way his mouth is moving and his arms are flailing a generic halo of hate. His two front lights…

My Beginning

Most times, when I look at you, I see Alessandra, my littlest girl. But sometimes, in a glimpse in my rearview mirror, or the quiet of a nap, you turn into paths of possibilities that run like veins, splitting and splitting and splitting until they disappear.

The Invisible Door

Cancer is like a bee. It stings you while you are relaxing at a picnic table enjoying a peanut butter sandwich. Then it flies away and you almost forget it was ever there. But it returns without warning, buzzing around your hand, leaving a trail of panic to replace the peace that existed moments before.

Apartment Living

Betty and Earl. They must be mid 80s. Maybe low 90s. They are the picture perfect elderly-something-year old couple. Their patio furniture stays under the plastic and bricks all summer long. They smile a lot, and nod even more. When we meet in the hallway or laundry room, Betty can't hear a word I say. What?…