Close calls

It was instinct and adrenaline, a hopeful protector but futile shield: “Close your eyes, Abby.”   Impotent words, like the reflex a mama uses when brakes are slammed and her arm flings across the front seat of the car. The big sister in the driver’s seat...

On coming home

My eyes blink open to black of night, my body disoriented to time and place.  It's saying nine but the clock insists it's three. Familiar is foreign and foreign is familiar. Crazy, sleepy thoughts, crafted from fatigue and mental exhaustion, the toll...

J’adore Paris

  Can you tell Paris makes me happy? This might be the funnest moment of my summer and my son captured it at just the right moment.

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