I have my tee already halfway over my head, blocking my eyes, when I feel a hand on my forearm, yanking me toward the other end of the field. “You can’t do that. Put it back on.”

To be naked on the beach after a storm is something special—the salt and the petrichor and the hum of being unsettled that maybe the torrential rains caused damage, that maybe there were nearby ships that will never make it to harbor.

To be naked on the beach after a storm is something special—the salt and the petrichor and the hum of being unsettled that maybe the torrential rains caused damage, that maybe there were nearby ships that will never make it to harbor.

Violet and I sit in her bed a while and talk. She shows me how to unhook and snake a bra through a sleeve.

Violet and I sit in her bed a while and talk. She shows me how to unhook and snake a bra through a sleeve.

“When Zac started writing the poems, I didn’t think it would get to this.”

“When Zac started writing the poems, I didn’t think it would get to this.”

“Foresee this, I did not,” Yoda commiserated. But he knew what he had to do. He just didn’t know if he could do it. 

“Foresee this, I did not,” Yoda commiserated. But he knew what he had to do. He just didn’t know if he could do it. 

By now I have learned that sometimes, as Tricia pummels away at the backs of my thighs, I can tolerate a memory or two of George.

By now I have learned that sometimes, as Tricia pummels away at the backs of my thighs, I can tolerate a memory or two of George.

Under what circumstances do we find ourselves here?

Under what circumstances do we find ourselves here?

“Yvonne?” she called out. 

“Yvonne?” she called out. 

when encountering the duckrabbit ... 

when encountering the duckrabbit ... 

By the time he’d arrived at the Atwell Park Summer Solstice Festival, Bill Hannan was so high he mistook one of the paper lanterns hanging from the red-lit oak tree at the center of the park for the moon. 

By the time he’d arrived at the Atwell Park Summer Solstice Festival, Bill Hannan was so high he mistook one of the paper lanterns hanging from the red-lit oak tree at the center of the park for the moon. 

This was months ago. April, maybe May. The weather was foggy. So was my brain. I saw you again in the Cubism section. I was standing in front of “The Actor” by Picasso. The second I saw you, I smiled

This was months ago. April, maybe May. The weather was foggy. So was my brain. I saw you again in the Cubism section. I was standing in front of “The Actor” by Picasso. The second I saw you, I smiled

"You won’t let me love you, so I am loving this plant,” he says.

"You won’t let me love you, so I am loving this plant,” he says.

We do Christmas Eve at our mom’s.

We do Christmas Eve at our mom’s.