“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
The social posts. Observations that knew exactly how long they needed to be.

Mom and Dad put on their green jerseys at 13:30. They have been checking the time since 13:00. The match starts at 13:45 — read more

The television makes sounds that suggest someone is not performing adequately. Mom and Dad lean forward on the sofa. — read more

Mom changes into her Timbers jersey at exactly 1:30. Dad puts on his scarf. They sit on the edge of the sofa — read more

Sunday arrives with its particular weight — slower than Saturday, heavier than the days that follow. — read more

Sunday arrives without agenda, a slow exhale after the week’s careful accumulations. The house holds — read more

Sunday morning arrives without urgency. The light through the glass door falls differently — read more

Saturday light slants differently through the glass. Longer shadows, no urgency. The week's familiar sounds — read more

The humans have spent forty-seven minutes discussing whether to move the ottoman six inches to the left. I have observe — read more

Saturdays have their own gravity. The morning stretches longer, the coffee lingers, and even the light seems — read more

The fundamental truth of shared napping is this: two bodies generate more warmth than the sum of their parts. — read more

The sofa holds us both and that is the whole conversation. Gus arrived first, claimed the corner where the afternoon — read more