The start of what I hope to be an interesting and wholesome series on strangers I encounter or observe in the sundry spaces I inhabit. To the young mom who shopped at my local grocery store when I worked there, Thank you for always saving me a smile, for shopping on Wednesday afternoons because youContinue reading “strangers: kind”
Tag Archives: storytelling
Sabbath
some spaces to cry: the edge of a sea green bathtub because they shouldn’t be texting you Monday chapel if the worship team makes you sing songs about ashes a full-length mirror crudely stuck to the wall you’ll think you look like a monster on Amazon while looking for a cheap, single-serve coffee maker theContinue reading “Sabbath”
in an apartment kitchen, alone
“The Bookshop” hangs suspended at the scene where Ms. Green meets Mr. Brundish. Halfway through the movie, they’re having tea together in an ill-lit dining room that looks like it used to boast grand parties. His white hair feels vaguely reminiscent of Albert Einstein, except if Einstein had made it a habit to carefully combContinue reading “in an apartment kitchen, alone”
third year humans (i)
I walked into the hair salon expecting to spend the next hour seated awkwardly in a chair while the stylist did her thing and asked questions I didn’t want to answer. People walked around with silver hair, hipster glasses, cool jewelry, and edgy tattoos, and then there was me, a small college student who knewContinue reading “third year humans (i)”
Day 6 – Dissociation
While we conducted close readings of “The Wanderer” and “The Seafarer,” a real-life storm raged its way across town outside. It seemed that night had fallen in the middle of the afternoon, and the rain ricocheted against the window panes as thunder threatened to make the ground tremble. As the skies surrendered their burdens toContinue reading “Day 6 – Dissociation”
Day 2 – Space
What does it mean to occupy space in literature? You change and are changed by that space. It’s fluid. You can enter, you can leave, you can bring people along. You discover something new. You retell a story. The moment you set your eyes on the page, you embody the writer’s words. They become aContinue reading “Day 2 – Space”
light pollution
the moon is the color of juice from an unripe strawberry or a deflated faded basketball lost among the broken bicycles in the garage or the yellow traffic light
just a glimpse
I have to remind myself that little Eliana would be so proud of me. Little Eliana had big dreams. She had no doubt she could achieve those dreams. She thought college students were the coolest people on the planet. *** I remember what it was like to be happy. Which stinks, because there’s a greatContinue reading “just a glimpse”
Eliana Chow 