all the old familiar places

We moved from one house to another, not even two miles away, when I was twelve. On the last night in the old house, I wrote a letter that I've since misplaced to remind myself of who I had been when I lived in that house. (I'm not sure how I drew up quite as… Continue reading all the old familiar places

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up in the air

“You got Big Green?” my dad used to ask me every time I’d come home for a stretch—first those monthlong winter breaks in college, later a week’s vacation from the office. I’d nod yes, sheepishly, well aware that I didn’t need to bring a suitcase large enough to stash a body in for a weeklong… Continue reading up in the air

american idiot

"D'ya want [incomprehensible noise]?" "Um, I'm sorry, what?" "D'ya want [incomprehensible noise]?" "I'm--um--sorry, one more time?" "D'ya want [incomprehensible noise]?" "I... no. No, thanks."   I am in London, in a cafe on Charlotte Street, where I learn in short order that drip coffee is an American thing, and there is something else that I could… Continue reading american idiot