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I ride the train to and from work every day. I’m what they call a regular rider. There are several of us. There’s the man in the gray suit with the pretty wife. On Fridays, he brings her flowers. Another young guy is always on his laptop. Maybe he’s a writer. There’s …
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A few days after her funeral, I was cleaning out my mother’s desk. The usual detritus was there: business cards, stamps, envelopes, stationery, and carefully clipped newspaper articles stacked in neat piles. These were her tools of the trade, the ordinary objects that had passed…
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I’m on a streetcar headed toward the French Quarter, seated on the narrow front bench where everyone feels slightly more exposed. Almost as if by choosing to sit there, I’ve agreed to witness whatever comes and goes. My husband Art stands beside me, one hand wrapped around the o…
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Lately, I’ve developed a small obsession: listening to audiobooks while I walk my dog, August. We take two long walks a day and my eyes also get tired now when I read – so this new practice is a win-win. I don’t listen with earphones. Never …
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