January 2015

Writing

January 31, 2015

I have not been writing because I have been struggling with the very real problem of how to write about the rage that defines our time. My impression is that people are so angry and so sick of the violence and senseless bloodshed splashed across our screens every single day: mass shootings inside our own […]

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Leaving

January 31, 2015

The note was on the corner of the mantel, just as you had said it would be. I was in your house three days after you had finally left, saying you could not take it any more. You were going back to Canada, to the tiny town where you were born and you were done […]

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The hat

January 31, 2015

We had been looking down all day, searching through the woods behind our house. She had gone missing again. Our mother, that is. She has dementia and, in the last few months over the summer, it had been getting much worse. She was becoming increasingly forgetful and even starting to get lost in the house, […]

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