Bones on the Mountain, Part I

The light that cut through the storm did not keep to the pli­ant road. It cir­cled, a bea­con shone from below, mov­ing much too fast to be affixed to a human. It cir­cled again, twice more, and finally aban­doned its pat­tern, rov­ing with what seemed a des­per­ate intent. The light was search­ing, search­ing, but could not find what it called out for. It landed on me only for a sec­ond, the blue light flood­ing my alcove, pin­ning my hud­dled shadow to the wet rock. As the rest­less sweep con­tin­ued, the light skirted a path head­ing down. […]

The Wax and the Wings

I like to hover for a moment in the story of Daedalus and Icarus with the two of them in the air, flush with the joy of their escape. I like to fill my lungs with a deep breath of salt air and hope. I like to feel the sun that, yes, is warm enough to melt wax, but that also warms my smil­ing lips. […]

…Sometimes I Need a Witness

Peo­ple say, “You look younger.” Or, “Have you met some­one?” Or, “If you keep look­ing younger every time I see you it’s gonna get weird in a few years.” I don’t know what to tell them, except that it’s hard not to live a lit­tle more fully when you spend a lot of time with ideas that are beg­ging you to do so. […]