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“The snow in the mountains was melting and Bunny had been dead for several weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation.” Skiparee is an unpaved road that cleaves to Mount Anthony’s graduated ascent, a clay and quartz limn up a spare corner of southwest Vermont. A modest mountain; a serious hill;…
The other week, an old friend texted me a link to a story in one of the local papers. The pool where we’d spent so much of our childhood would be closing, permanently, at the end of the summer. The engineer who’d been called to do the evaluation determined that the structure was, essentially, irredeemable. …
Easter, 2014. I put on a chartreuse dress and lilac suede sandals and Brady and I go uptown to my great aunt’s where we eat mille feuille from Lady M and drink probably too much white wine out of small, weighty hock glasses. On the way home I get off the subway two stops early…
One of the great, enjoyable mysteries of any pregnancy is what the baby will look like. How strange, then, to know my daughter’s interior so intimately months before I saw her face. Read more
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