Two worlds touch where the spring surfaces. One, the green world inhabited by humans, washed by sun and moonlight, alive with sound and scent, and, beneath our feet, another—an unfathomable place of darkness, where water, minerals, stone, and time contrive the ground...
My mother loved beautiful things: a print of Tom Tomson’s The West Wind that hung in the vestibule of my childhood home; June lilacs in a tall white Wedgwood vase; fancy Limoges china inherited from her dead relatives; and, too, Barbra Streisand songs from Yentl that...
Chris and I are standing in the vacuum cleaner aisle at Walmart, surveying Hoovers, checking prices. The debate: do we buy a shitty vacuum cleaner for less that will probably conk out in a year or two a week after the warranty expires (it’s like they know), or do we...