Creative Nonfiction

Seeing Pink Elephants

Before 2016… It’s usually around seven when I wake up, when the circadian alarm announces it’s time to contend with a horrifying, if somewhat obscene, morning ritual known as the DTs—or, to employ a more gentle euphemism: “seeing pink elephants.” What this means is I go to the bathroom, close…

Silent Song

In Camerota, where the locals dance salsa every night for all of summer in a club called The Cyclops, I step into the butter yellow church in the piazza and find the most sorrowful Madonna I’ve ever seen. She stands on the right side of the altar, her eyes red-rimmed,…

Geographies of Pluto

We do not know the geography of Pluto as intimately as those celestial bodies closer to Earth. Looking up, one eye closed, I could trace the Moon’s Mare Serenitatis with my pinky finger as if grazing the dark circles under a lover’s eyes. The lunar maria, plains of basalt astronomers…