On December 16, 2012, a young physiotherapy student and her friend, who happens to be a boy, board a bus after watching The Life of Pi in a multiplex in New Delhi.
My mother is in the bedroom, its atmosphere a fog of cigarette smoke. She works through the good book of crosswords, lying on her stomach on the creaky queen bed.
The thing is, I don’t even like dogs. In my world, dogs are either small, yappy things that gnaw your ankles or monsters that slobber on your sundresses.
I twiddle with the radio during the four-hour drive from the airport in Midland, Texas, to Big Bend National Park… Now, the airwaves match the landscape: vacant.
My barber Ben cut hair in Auschwitz. He spent three and a half years in a darkness in which it would seem impossible for anything to have grown, including hair.
I started freelance writing a few years ago…Then I started teaching high school English Language Arts and writing for fun… It’s a lot to juggle, but, fortunately, I’ve developed some habits that help me to stay productive when writing projects pile up.