In the field guide, the butterflies are organized by shape just as in field guides of flowers and trees. Just as all things in nature are known by their cups, their serrated edges, their tents, their folds and lengths. I flip through white silhouettes on black glossy pages. There’s an entire section of skippers and another of fritillaries. I find… Read more →
There’s a cup of tea growing cold on the table between the two of them, and a puzzle. It’s 5:30 in the morning and the fog outside is growing, sinking, swelling. Inside, the walls of the cabin feel damp. The wood swells, walls creaking. Anne pulls the blanket closer, finds another piece, places it. Sips her tea. She looks at… Read more →
Two balls on the kitchen counter, one blue, the other a strange tangerine floral, the third was missing. I’d seen it just half an hour ago, a multicoloured orb that mystified the eye. What colour was it, Joey? I searched piles of wrapping, other toys splayed across the mid-winter living room post-birthday mess, nothing. Anger furnaced my mind, guts, my… Read more →
On the train ride home, I fall asleep and dream of eagles taking over the farm where I grew up, letting the cows loose and they roam. My family evacuates our home, and then we’re riding past a brushfire in a convertible bus until there is a roadblock. Peach trees talk to me, saying, Find your way. Bristlecone trees wave,… Read more →
The first time I saw Hilda, I was standing in my neighbor Nicole’s lawn discussing the neighborhood preschools while our daughters, Sabine and Amberley, squatted on the sidewalk. Nicole was weighing the merits of Reggio Emilia versus Montessori when Hilda came outside and stretched as if she had just woken from a deep sleep. Even though it was midday, our… Read more →
It was a surprise when Jim announced that an old pal called Bob would be visiting. He had spoken of friends from his past, but never had he mentioned this one. “Bob, Robert? Roberto?” “Bob.” “Fair enough,” Paula said. “What is he like? Would you say he’s kind? funny? Peachy? Merry? Depraved? Perverted?” Jim wouldn’t describe people. “Bob,” he said,… Read more →
We swim through the living room toward the television while our mother watches reruns of Friends. She yells, “For shit’s sake, stop that, go outside!” But we don’t go outside. It’s the middle of the day, it’s 103 under the pines, and we’ve outgrown—by years—the small plastic pool Mom bought us with her egg money. Egg money buys everything we… Read more →
Six minutes outside of Chartres, a family is renting their home to college students taking what they call une année de fossé. The mother of the family, who studied English during her own bright college years, translates to her husband – une année sabbatique is what they mean to say. Only one of the students, Emily, has learned the correct… Read more →
We didn’t believe Vivian when she said she was going to hide in the busted refrigerator, the one Mr. Wilson kept saying he was going to take to the dump. Even as she skipped toward it we fanned out, wedging ourselves under parked cars, knifing into rotted tool sheds, monkey climbing magnolia trees. We held perfectly still until olly, olly,… Read more →
I wanted your first time to be special, so I drove us to Volvo Island. Ottawa was only ten minutes away by car. I took Illinois Highway 71 south, turned left onto U.S. Route 6, then pulled onto the side of the road. Route 6 could take us all the way to California. I had never left the state. Neither… Read more →