Don’t run

VIGNETTEI backed away, slowly inching toward the river. My breathe calm and steady even as my heart raced. Thump-thump-thump; thump-thump-thump; thump-thump-thump. Doing my best to avoid direct eye contact, I froze when I heard the crackle of the branch under my foot. Time stood still for a fraction of a second that seemed to last…… Continue reading Don’t run

WP: Morning Habits

VIGNETTELooking down at my fingertips, I notice them black, smudged by the paper. It’s part of my habit. Coffee brewed at 6:30 am every morning for the past twenty years. An English muffin topped with sweet marmalade and three slices of jalapeño. And a single fried egg with bacon. Always with bacon. Some people call…… Continue reading WP: Morning Habits

Mimi and her toast

VIGNETTE My grandma, who we called Mimi, was standing at my kitchen counter eating her morning toast. She started to walk around observing my new living quarters as crumbs fell to the floor with every bite. Seeing the mess, I grabbed a plate and followed after her in an attempt to catch the crumbs. “What…… Continue reading Mimi and her toast

My love life is suffering

VIGNETTE, Humor Head buried in The New Yorker is not the norm for my morning commute on the Q, but I recently subscribed and am quite enjoying my quiet time with the articles each morning. It seems more productive than staring at random people as I internally bee-bop to the Broadway tunes in my earbuds.…… Continue reading My love life is suffering