Trigger warnings

We started to watch Game of Thrones. There was an impending feeling of doom and violence. Within the first ten minutes something awful happened, or was about to happen, I don’t remember. It was gruesome. We turned it off. We started to watch Daredevil. Immediately a young boy was lying injured in the street from […]

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Overheard in Brooklyn

On Remsen Street: A thin kid in a St Francis College sweatshirt and some low-slung skinny jeans approaches an older, professional lady. She doesn’t see him at first, she’s having a heated convo on the cell. He speaks, inaudibly low. “Huh?” She says. He repeats his request. She pulls the cell from her ear, looks […]

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The nature of the things we do

I’m heading off to work this morning. Standing on the subway platform among my fellow commuters, fellow travels, I feel isolated. I know we all do. I feel the day spread out before me in a hazy expanse, with time points as sign posts: at x, have coffee, keep drinking coffee until y, because after […]

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date with a bike

I took my kid’s bike to a Broadway show last night. I’d dropped him off at school that morning; he rode his little balance bike the whole way there. Then I grabbed the train and went to work, fully planning to pick him up after school. Schedule switch, I stayed the whole day at work, […]

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Life as a rogue asteroid

It’s okay. We don’t have to talk. It’s been a rough week, and it’s only almost Thursday. I feel a little eaten up by the world this week, by my little corner of the city, by my new computer that will only intermittently turn on, by kids growing out of shoes faster than I can […]

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Strangers on the MTA

We switch to the D train at 36th. The train is packed, so I stand, holding the stroller wheels in place with my feet, one hand on the handle, the other on the pole. C hangs out in his seat. He wants to sit on the subway bench, but I show him how crowded the […]

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high schoolers on train platforms

There’s something about a train platform full of high school students. It is something magical, something tragic. Something buoyant with potentiality spills out of hoodies and frantic is-this-what-it-means-to-be-grown hand shakes. It is ebullient, joyous, and devastating and beautiful. It’s nostalgic, we know what it was to be that, we know how hard it was, we […]

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