Writer
“Who really looks at that statue and thinks about that man owning slaves?” Debbie asked, in the comments section of a post on our neighborhood’s social media page. The post was about a statue being…
On my bedside table when I wake, he has left these things: three perfectly measured ounces of milk, in our daughter’s favorite cup a still-hot…
We didn’t intend to live in Canton. We considered ourselves “Fells people” after living there for a decade, relishing the live music at every corner in Fells Point, the quirky venues, and the charming cobblestone…
In case you missed it, here is a link to the recorded reading of Yellow Arrow’s Writers-in-Residence: Yellow Arrow Virtual Reading Want to read more? Buy the zine here!
My mom has been in the hospital for a few days, and I haven’t left her room except to go home and pack some more clothes, come right back. The doctors have told us nothing…
My daughter had a play date today. That should be a normal occurrence, a non-event for a stay-at-home mama of a toddler… But these aren’t normal times. Around her first birthday, Elena reached the age…
When the doctor tells us that my mother has stage four lung cancer which has spread through her pancreas, liver, and bones, we do not have a movie-like family embrace. The doctor is abrupt and…
