Advent Calendar
December 1, 2017:
I am alone this December, cloistered in a stranger’s Airbnb apartment to finish my memoir. A package arrives addressed to me, wrapped in worn…
Little House
I haven’t had a home since I was 25. Not really. That’s when my mother died. She had cancer and one day, more than a year before her death, I stood at…
SALT: A Homecoming
It was Penelope’s job to wait. And weave. Or so we think.
Who writes of Penelope, her many-syllabled reality?
Who wants to know…