Nocturne
There is a class of seniors in my library. Their teacher is stuck in a meeting with the superintendent and his classroom is locked.
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Awareness
The night I move in, I sit in my darkened kitchen and sip wine next to the open window. I watch as the cops pull up beside a black teenager…
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“Lenin Was Half-Jewish and So Can You”
My grandfather, Israel, always claimed it was my doing. I was nineteen and I was getting restless.
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Of Bikes and Men
I’ve just completed my first year as a full-time lecturer teaching writing at a state university, and this is, undoubtedly, the most anticipated summer…
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Lives and Past Lives
I’ve always loved walking at night. I’ll go anywhere: through the neighborhoods of small towns, through a dozen identical suburbs, through seedy…
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Goodbye to All This
So, I’m balking on my grad school apps. It’s not because they seem arduous—in fact, they seem surprisingly streamlined.
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A Digital Notebook on Invisible Borders
Why did I write it down? In order to remember, of course, but exactly what was it I wanted to remember? How much of…
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Seeds
My grandfather lives among the trees. He is streaked with dirt, brown as a fallen acorn. When he walks, the leaves bend under his feet.
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Homing Instincts
There are five types of navigation, five ways to find your way home: topographic, celestial, magnetic, olfactory and true.
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My Month as a Slut
My sister clapped her hands and said, “Let’s get dressed up like sluts and go to the Beverly Center!” This is how it started.
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