Snow Day

Nestled on either side of a busy six-lane highway, a neglected cemetery quietly ages. Separated from the road by a sagging chain link fence topped with rusting barbed wire, the majority of travelers, going well over the posted speed limit, pay the relic no mind.

Congratulations on Your Graduation

Her parents are professors at Brooklyn Law. I forget their names: Shel and Sarah or Saul and Sally. We haven’t said more than five words to each other, but I’ve watched their girl, Juliet, grow from a chirpy, sunny blonde to a pale, quiet teenager. She hides behind her long, straight, dishwater hair, with just the cuff of her silver-tipped earring poking out.