Archive for the ‘Not so true’ Category


Between storms

February 25, 2017

Even between storms, there are sunny days when we can find a place to sit alone for a minute, or with our families, or our friends, and say, rest. It’s time to fill a glass with just-squeezed juice, to open the jar of jam made on a hot summer day, to spread it thickly with butter on home-baked bread. It’s time to bask in the warm light, curled up in a chair with a book, or just staring off at the horizon without seeking a solution.

Gather energy when the opportunity arises, friends. The clouds surround us.


Your kind

February 24, 2017

Delete your phone before you travel, he said. I’ve heard they’re checking them at the border.

Why should they care about my phone? she asked. I’m not who they’re looking for.

Sure, he said. You’re not the person they’re looking for now, but what about when they run out of those people? At some point, your kind comes on the list.

She had not needed to think about her kind before, but she could imagine herself in a lineup with certain people. She could see how she might be passed over in the search for someone to take away.


Stapler creative

February 23, 2017

Do you have your stapler? I asked.

I am nothing if not creative, she replied.

We were only calling to talk about our weekend plans, but in this new world, even those needed encryption. We didn’t want someone following us to our local watering hole. We did not want to hand over our phones, our identification, our passports, our identities.

So, like spies, we exchanged authentications, assuring each other, for the moment, that we were safe, that our conversation was our own, that we had done everything we could to make sure nothing happened to us along the way.


Tidal cycles

February 20, 2017

The tides cycled in and out that weekend, and they felt like the most certain thing she’d seen in weeks. Everything else had gone off-rhythm, the new order of things creating a flapping noise in her ears every day like the sound a flat tire makes as the car limps to the next exit on the highway.

Can I stay here forever? she asked as the water receded, baring sea grass and mud, crusty undersides of docks.

No, whispered the water. But, I go away and return, and so can you, when the time is right.


Just money

February 19, 2017

How much does it cost to throw a nuclear war? he asked. This was the sort of question they’d come to expect, even so early in his tenure, even given that several of them were allegedly giving him advice on a regular basis.

$14 billion, give or take, said the lone general invited to the meeting. I mean, I don’t know that for sure, but that’s what I’m ballparking, if you don’t account for human life. The general nodded to underscore everything he said.

We can make that again, right? he said. It’s just money.


The palace of disillusionment

February 14, 2017

Somewhere, high above the glittering city, she checked her phone, hoping for a message that said he loved her.

All day, she’d hoped for a bunch of flowers, or maybe a jewelry delivery—nothing she needed, but things she wanted, like any woman might.

As a girl, she had dreamed of a man taking care of her. She had imagined how handsome he would be, how rich, how powerful. Now, she lived in the palace of disillusionment, unsure if he knew what the calendar said, or, even, who she really was.



February 13, 2017

She settled into meditation, into the small room deep in her head none of them could touch. There, the noise of rage quieted, the work retreated, and her friends and family, with their deep love and constant need, fell away. But it took her longer than usual to get there.

The time to enter had stretched longer day by day. Even when she could find the door, some days it was as if it took her long minutes to find the key. She feared the day might be approaching when she could no longer unlock that room and escape.