The Olive Oil Was Hers, the Confidence Was Mine
May twenty-eighth. Simone showed up with a small bottle of good olive oil, not the grocery store kind, the kind from the Saturday market stand where the person behind the table wi…
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The Woman Who Didn't Notice the Rain
May seventeenth. There was a woman on a bench across the path from us who was on a phone call so committed, so load-bearing, that when the first drops came she did not move. Not a…
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The Oat Milk Was Gone and We Took It Personally
May sixth. Here is what happened at the end of the shift: the coffee cart was out of oat milk. That's it. That's the whole incident. Simone looked at the cart, looked at me, and s…
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The Dress That Only Comes Out When It Earns It
April twenty-fifth. There is a dress in the back of my closet that I do not wear casually. Not because it's precious, exactly, but because I made a rule about it at some point wit…
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The Argument That Was None of Our Business
April fourteenth. There were two people at the bus shelter across from the coffee cart, and they were arguing. Not the low-hissing kind of argument you look away from, the private…
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The Recipe I Had No Business Attempting
April third. I had a piece of paper on the counter and I kept reading the same line four times, not because it was hard to understand but because I was trying to figure out if I w…
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The Call and the Staying
March twenty-third. My aunt called during break and I picked up without thinking, which is not always what I do when I see her name. It was fine, she was calling to say nothing ur…
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The Hot Dog Question
March twelfth. Here is what happened: we were minding our own business. Simone and I had gone to the coffee shop on Sunday the way we sometimes do when neither of us has anything…
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The Silk Was Not Impressed With Me
March first. There was a flyer on the community center corkboard for a beginner aerial silks workshop, one Saturday afternoon, no experience required, the kind of thing you photog…
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The Air Changed Yesterday
March first. I was on my way back from the corner, I'd gone out for nothing urgent, just to move, the way you do after a February that sat on you, and somewhere between the mailbo…
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