It’s an ungodly hour of the morning and I am standing in the kitchen working my tongue around the chalky disposition of my third antacid tablet. Stumbling sleepily back to the corner cabinet where the remedies for all sorts of ailments are stored, I return the well-used bottle and grasp my lower back to give myself a firm massage on the aching muscles. I have … Continue reading TUMS at 3:30 a.m.
There’s something comforting about knowing that you always have a place to come back to. It’s been well over a year, and as is my way, I disappeared. But I always return. I’ve embraced the notion that I’m always going to be like an ocean wave— forever changing, shifting, growing, shrinking, pulling back, coming just within reach, but not quite—always returning to land. Welcome home. Continue reading Main Street