When a Place is Too Many Things

When a Place is Too Many Things Some places are things. They are the air breathed in and out by a sad man who misses his life because he forgets it’s still being lived. They are the mats of wisping hair, falling in troll hairdos off a dying dog’s coat, flying fairy...

First Days of Housesitting as a Writer

First Days of Housesitting as a Writer I stayed with Claudio for four days before he departed. It was too many days. He suggested I come early to get the lay of the land, but I soon realized that it was mainly because he was lonely. Which would have been fine if he...

Housesitting in Italy: First Nights Alone

Housesitting in Italy: First Nights Alone I am not proud to say that on this first day of seeing no fellow human, I greet the night with a certain fear rising in my blood. Alone, there will be no friend or parent calling or stopping by. No neighbor to hear a scuffle...