my hands grip each other tightly, fingers interlocked, thumbs folded over each other. Sometimes my hands are clasped, a hollow space between them, at the ready like a cheer captain. Sometimes my hands stand tall and flat, pressed together, swishing back and forth like a fish’s tail, resting against my bowed forehead. But sometimes when I pray, my hands wipe tears, smooth hair out of eyes, deliver a meal to someone’s doorstep. Sometimes my hands slam … Continue reading Sometimes when I pray

The constellation Orion. Latte art. The Classics you never read. Salt Cookie ice cream from Blue Seal. The soft dough of toddler feet in your hands. Speaking of dough: warm, homemade cinnamon rolls covered in gooey icing. Text threads with college friends. Donut shops you haven’t discovered yet. Dinner table shenanigans. Glowing faces with puckered lips, hovered over birthday cakes. Birthday cakes. Wine tasting in Argentina. Double decker bus rides in London. I hear Alaska is amazing this time of year. Continue reading Reasons to Live through the Apocalypse