In the 90’s my Tia wore her brown glazed lip, gold chains, baggy pants to school; she was called a ghetto, dirty– CHOLA. Now reflected on paler skin. Now its big gold hoops are cute. Now being brunette is trendy. When did slick hair in a bun, big gold hoops, and Kiley’s gloss drip […
We rented the house just north of Blissfield, the alley kitchen made for many traffic jams, though the only horns that would blare trumpeted the readiness of rosemary rye. The guest bedroom sweetened with sawdust, your cedar stain waging an aromatic war against my window silled peppermint.
Typing half-churned poetry, touching screens with a tongue, bearing in mind the doomsday clock. Putting passive voice on resumes, love letters, and easily hacked apps, I think Romanticism is back. The lexicon is overflowing, overtaxing, and overstaying its welcome.The NYC, Luddite teens had a
By Gabrielle Crone Only a hillbilly would bring their injured dog to the vet using twine as a leash. At least that’s what our vet, Westley, announced when he saw my grandpa, Charles Bailey, in the lobby of the clinic twine leash in hand. Gizmo had injured his paw, most [&helli
By Lindsay Jankowski Cookbook for life Imagine life came with a cookbook, chock full of suggestions and answers to all of life’s problems. Unsure how to approach your mom about changing your career? Consult page 552 on “mother-daughter conflict” for a step-by-step list. Think you’re going
By Emma Gail Compton I made the table I eat dinner at. The wood was cheap but sturdy. The stain I chose is a dark oaky red and makes the small round table seem more expensive than it was. One could find something similar at any store, but this table, my table, I made. I […]