february may have been fleeting, but it was filled with these good things* 1 people-watching in a fast food joint 2 the second the hot shower water first hits your skin 3 a hug following a fight 4 family that feels like friends 5 a beer before bed 6 looking through old love letters 7 …
It was the last day of the year, when I always try to make time more tangible, pin it down, make sense of its passing. When I grapple with what it means to be alive at this place, in this moment. The kids were playing in the basement—the younger two still battling a cold—and I’d …
Some have been shouting, some stay silent. Everything has changed, yet one day still follows the last, much like it always has. Our burdens feel heavier, yes. But the beauty feels sharper too. Every small kindness, every gentle exchange. We are more porous somehow, risking both the scalding heat and the soothing salve of letting …
You come from the hill by the lake. It’s dotted with wooden huts that overlook the water. On long Saturdays, campers sit on towels stretched below the summer sun—barefooted, knees bent. Or toss frisbees, rest on the rise and fall of a kindred’s chest, seek shade. Come nightfall, heads tilt toward every star in a midsummer sky. …
I found myself on a flight to California the other day to visit family. As we boarded the aircraft, touching our fingertips to the fuselage, these could be my last steps on earth, I think, and then again as we slowly taxi down the runway, these, my last moments in life. Morbid, maybe, but I …
Dina L. Relles 