I assume death feels something like…

If I were a flower…

Sitting on a park bench in New York is like watching a jumbled symphony of indie movies…

Politics is a game…

Living life with “no regrets” seems to be a privilege…

Every now and again I catch myself peering out the window…

Spend way too much money on a Diptyque candle…

We will.

Sitting in my humid room, I could feel my pores sweating…

As I approached the crosswalk, I noticed him with two reusable Trader Joe's bags…

Is it hot where you are?

It was a quiet Sunday morning when I stepped outside my building holding March’s rent check…

The sweet smell of a hot New York sidewalk knows no peer…

What do you do with your other hand while you’re at the water fountain?

Tracing the spiral of tumbling of clothes in the dryer…

I am a marketer’s dream…

This just in. We are getting reports…

Standing in the arcane basement of our neighboring town church, I stared across at every girl in my preschool class…