In writing "Hikokimori", I started off with two characters who speak different languages. I played with the idea of how difficult it is to connect with another person, even in your own family, and how connection can be impossible for some people.
The Jewish Year
For Rosh Hashana, my mother took me and my father to her sister. We had a celebratory dinner with a honey cake for desert to make the upcoming year sweet, and my uncle spoke against God and religion, a habit he developed for holiday dinners. The three of us stayed there for two days. I called the neighborhood kids to join me in my circus training, while my parents had grapes or cake on the verandah with relatives.
Lost Self Meditation on the California Coast
Devan sleeps as I wind through the biggest trees. Devan sleeps as I read all the road signs out loud (grandfather tree, one log cabin, tsunami hazard zone). we are both wide awake as I slip and slide down 13 vertical miles of slick red clay, speedometer counting decimals.
The Moon Outside a Window
It’s been impossible to even glance at him since he said the first irreversible things. This inability to look him in the face is many-faceted. In the beginning, it was the pain of longing and wishing he felt the same. Then there was the avoiding him in the mornings so he couldn’t see me in my tracksuit bottoms and wild, morning hair. And now, with the news of his bedding down with a partner for this globally terrifying event, the avoidance feels more jagged...
Queen of Strays
Amy wrote, ‘There are many things one should try not to take personally. An absence of convenient parking, inclement weather, a husband who finds that he loves someone else.’
Fire Damage
The trainmaster nodded as Roy stepped forward. “Okay, pay attention. The yardmaster is Hank.” He glanced toward the tracks. “That’s him over there with no shirt on. He’ll tell you what to do. If you get injured, tell Hank, and he’ll tend to it. Don’t bother the railway surgeon unless you need something amputated. Got it?”