Before composing these thoughts, while reviewing an initial draft, I found myself rising from my desk and meandering around the room, sketching random paths to regain my focus. It seems…
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Americana ascribes itself to the lawn. The verdant blades behind the white picket fence. The home beyond with a happy nuclear family inside. The lawn laid out empty over their…
It’s Friday evening, just before dinner. The house smells of citrus cleaner and a slow simmering stew. Two women stand on either side of the kitchen island. One leans her…