My breath comes in short bursts of white smoke. My heaving chest is an engine blowing exhaust into the frost. I lean over the porch hyperventilating, watching my tears hit the snow beneath my feet making tiny indentations, pinhole hollows searing the purity of a fresh snowfall. I feel a hand on my shoulder and my son pushes a cloth towards me to wipe my nose and eyes and the vomit from my lips. I squeeze my eyes shut tight causing tears to spill harder down my cheeks and puncture the pristine …
Depression
When You Feel Hunted by Anxiety
Light breaks in through the window and draws a slanted square on the floor. I dip my bare toes in it and stand facing our back porch. The pines swoon under the blush of evening as the sky blossoms in lavender and pink. I don’t know how long I stand there but my toes are soon planted in darkness again. And this is when the thundering begins, the trampling like hooves against my ribcage, extinguishing my breath. One moment I am taking in the beauty of the blazing sunset, the next I am a stampede …
When Hollowed and Holy Quiet Speaks Loudest: On Hospitality
We’re sitting in the glow of neon, the golden arches casting pale yellow and red on the asphalt where we’re parked. I’m sipping iced tea even thought it’s cold and we’re clutched by winters deep spell, flurries scattering around outside haphazardly lacking the stamina to collect themselves on the ground. The windshield wiper swipes at them randomly streaking the window with frost. I’ve pulled my hat down low over my unwashed hair and my arms wrap across me as if my embrace could somehow hold …
