In the bathroom, I forced myself to think of Writerly Things, as a way to recall something that was once effortless. It was laughable, because I have nothing to say, and I certainly was not able to think of amusing ways to say the things … Continue reading Old tricks
I am not sure there was ever a moment, a moment in which the immense scope of this decision threatened to overwhelm me. Not when the plane took off and I watched the bridges of Pittsburgh recede without farewell; it amused me that I no … Continue reading Bonjour, ça va?
In the days leading up to the India trip, I was anxious, I had that vague pain behind my rib cage. And so I tried to distract myself by cleaning more than I should, cooking more than I needed. On the way to the airport, … Continue reading The After
I have become one of those people, who fret about not writing, and then proceed to write about the same. Confronted with the silence in my head, I find that there are no words left for me to spill, no knots to loosen; just an … Continue reading There is a bump on the road
Yesterday, at the cafe, I watched a woman place a convoluted order for beverages and sandwiches, with a number of insufferable substitutions. When the cashier repeated her order, I ran through the list in my head and concluded that she hadn't missed anything. Here is … Continue reading Work, life
The light in Los Angeles is striking: a milky white that gives way to white-hot afternoons, then the sky turns orange and purple, even the smog manages to add to the appeal. Buskers, stores selling quirk and kitsch, graffitied walls—it's like walking into a museum, … Continue reading I went on a trip
It was a surprise, but I woke up from a dream in which I had killed someone. A quiet murder, not messy at all. What methods did I resort to? Like all murderers too clever for their own good, I suspect it was a poison … Continue reading In search of emotion