Time Moves Both Ways
Last summer, my wife and I rode our bikes together along the Cambridge to Paris rail trail—an eighteen kilometer venture alongside an out-of-use train track. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fitness q... Read more
Quezon City, October 1, 1975
Everyone is watching two men bleed in the square. i. They’re leaning on each other, heads on the other’s shoulders. The referee pushes them apart and the mouthpieces fly into the air. Granddad, th... Read more
Untitled
His smile is like a golden ray of sunshine, stripping back his mask to show his soul. The sound of his laugh—soft medley of strings. Quick flashes of white behind pink curtains, tasting of warm, ooz... Read more