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La varicelle 26 Jul 2013 | 11:05 pm

When I was twenty-one, I lived in Paris for a semester and worked as an au pair. One day, the three children I looked after spiked fevers and cried and wiggled and complained and broke out in angry re...

Other people say it better: part three 13 Jul 2013 | 11:17 am

The Mower The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found A hedgehog jammed up against the blades, Killed. It had been in the long grass. I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. Now I had mauled...

Other people say it better: Part two 26 Jun 2013 | 09:45 pm

Heaven All afternoon the sprinkler ticks and sprays, ticks and sprays in lazy rounds, trailing a feather of mist. When I turn it off, the cicadas keep up their own dry rain, passing on high from ...

Other people say it better: Part one 26 Jun 2013 | 02:37 am

Myth BY NATASHA TRETHEWEY I was asleep while you were dying. It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow I make between my slumber and my waking, the Erebus I keep you in, still trying no...

Comfort Reading 21 Jun 2013 | 12:32 am

Old fashioned murder mysteries work miracles. Better still if they’re part of a series–a series whose first seventy or so volumes have already been written, so you don’t have to cope with any cliffhan...

Weeks 14 Jun 2013 | 09:37 am

I’m staring at the laptop, trying to think of a good way to sum up what I’ve done since I last wrote here. Well, let’s see. School ended in a flurry of concerts and class plays and standardized tests ...

Unmagical thinking 21 May 2013 | 11:58 am

I know people talk about the transformative power of grief, and I know that there’s supposed to be some alchemy whereby you internalize the person you lost so that he or she lives on inside you. You c...

In Which I Am a Drag 15 May 2013 | 07:12 am

“Drag” is actually a great word for it–everything I do seems weighted down, slow, exhausting. I think longingly all day about the moment I’ll get go to bed, and then when I get there I worry about the...

Initiation 1 May 2013 | 11:41 pm

My grandmother wasn’t part of my everyday life. We lived far away from each other, after all, and in recent years I did not call her as much as I used to. I used to talk to her at least once a week an...

Scraps 25 Apr 2013 | 12:05 am

My wits are slow, and while I would love to produce a dazzling essay that would make my grandmother as vivid and wonderful to you as she was to me, I can’t do it yet. I do find it enormously comfortin...

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