I was going to write about a woman. A woman who built a glass hospital. She set aside a few mirrors, some scents, and beautiful teacups to drink out of. There were stores of fine linen, cheerful utensils, and small animals to stroke. Pear trees glistened in the dew. Lavender buzzed with bees around tea... Continue Reading →

There is a tree on a street off my street and it is a beautiful tree. It surprises me every time I see it. "Boo!" it says in a showery voice of blossoms or of blossoms to be or of blossoms on their way out. It's Miranda July but not as hard or as false.... Continue Reading →