How to Let it Go

It doesn’t seem like much, but it means a lot to you. One small pouch, navy blue, pink florescent cut-out on the front. It’s got nothing in it, really. Just a few old New York City subway cards stuffed in …

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Maybe It’s Just Me

It’s rare I sit down to write and don’t already have an idea of what I’d like to say. But that’s the situation I find myself in today. I don’t have an idea, but there’s a feeling – a very …

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The Musician Son

A few months before I moved my doorman told me that someone had died in my apartment. Not the person before me, but definitely the person before them. The son of a Haitian woman that everyone called mama. She lived …

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The Drive

Good things take time, but patience has never been a virtue of mine. It’s not a virtue of my generation, really. Why would I take the long, circuitous route when I can take the freeway and get there in ten? …

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When It Rains at the Beach

I’m at the beach and it is raining. Not a slow, gentle rain, but a heavy, never-ending downpour. The pool in the backyard is nearly overflowing, the wind and deluge creating a current that pushes the water up, up, up …

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