unhistoric acts

My dad goes in for a memory test. He thinks he didn’t do well. I could hold this test down and punch it until it passed out, gushing blood from its nose, and sorry. Our identity, mine, my mom’s, my dad’s, rests on being the smart one, the clever one, the one who goes faster, […]

the sun with eyes closed

My dad said, “Your car looks great!” My dad cares about cars being clean, and in my middle age, I have begun to care, as well. The previous week I had crowned my Friday work day with a trip to the car wash, where I sat and imagined the spouts and flaps were monsters with […]

under it

Overwhelmed, overloaded, crushed. These words describe not just the fuse that services my classroom, but my overall situation. (It’s okay. The fuses are just in the hallway. And half the time, the teachers in the other classroom I share power with go flip it.) Swamped. Submerged. Inundated. These words describe not just what happened to […]

both sides now

I spend part of most work days circling the school. One of our primary treatments at the school where I teach is walking. Ideally, walking outside. Down the front steps, around the corner of the building, where the church’s sanctuary is, and under its overhang, where a fence protects extra junk that we tell the […]