While the lamb is roasting, I go to the bathroom and cut off some of my hair with the kitchen scissors.

While the lamb is roasting, I go to the bathroom and cut off some of my hair with the kitchen scissors.

It was the summer of 1977. Son of Sam was stalking young couples.

It was the summer of 1977. Son of Sam was stalking young couples.

The unknown boy, that uninvited new friend, showed his freckled face, sang a cumbia with us, and drank from our glass. He became light in a blink.

The unknown boy, that uninvited new friend, showed his freckled face, sang a cumbia with us, and drank from our glass. He became light in a blink.

As my passion for tweeting grew, my grip on reality subsided.

As my passion for tweeting grew, my grip on reality subsided.

Warm from the soup and already forgetting what we drove through, I pick up a copy of The Pearl, by Steinbeck.

Warm from the soup and already forgetting what we drove through, I pick up a copy of The Pearl, by Steinbeck.

It was a glorious fall afternoon, with the occasional orange leaf dropping in through the sunroof. Hadley flipped down the sunvisor and studied herself. With her dark hair and sharp cheekbones, she strikingly resembled her mother.

It was a glorious fall afternoon, with the occasional orange leaf dropping in through the sunroof. Hadley flipped down the sunvisor and studied herself. With her dark hair and sharp cheekbones, she strikingly resembled her mother.

'WHO DARES TRESPASS IN MY STREAM!' he bellowed.

'WHO DARES TRESPASS IN MY STREAM!' he bellowed.

Lothar took a bold step towards Tom and sniffed Tom’s sweating, planted hand. “I think they’re friendly? If we don’t scare them?”  

Lothar took a bold step towards Tom and sniffed Tom’s sweating, planted hand. “I think they’re friendly? If we don’t scare them?”  

Perhaps, I thought, I belonged on the laundry room discard shelf with “still good?” written across my forehead.

Perhaps, I thought, I belonged on the laundry room discard shelf with “still good?” written across my forehead.

Once a story ends it can be owned.

Once a story ends it can be owned.

The description stated that it needed to be handled with gloves, which was a little frightening for something that was supposed to be ingested.

The description stated that it needed to be handled with gloves, which was a little frightening for something that was supposed to be ingested.

We get quite hungry, you know, never touching the ground.

We get quite hungry, you know, never touching the ground.

A couple months ago my mother and I had to dig up my grandmother's grave. I looked away from her face. My mother didn’t: her eye is gone, her skin is gone, and her mouth is a big hole.