Healing and hope . . .
Driving south on Pacific Coast Highway, the sun shines and I listen to The Moth Radio Hour. The storyteller reminisces about a Christmas homecoming after his…
Photographs and memories . . .
I lift the dusty lid from the cardboard box revealing envelopes stuffed with photographs and negatives. Neatly stacked upright and mostly organized chronologically, some are marked…
I see you . . .
We sit on barstools at the counter facing the large open window to Main Street’s foot traffic. Juice from the fish taco I’m devouring runs past…
Bare Naked in Public 