notes for the human heart
My apartment smells like fried onions and potatoes. Remnants of the sliced onions and potatoes I made last night, at ten pm, when the craving finally intersected with a hunger intense enough to get over the effort it would take to make them. It was a pleasure, then, to slice the onions and potatoes, and… Continue reading simply
Love from far away I can't imagine, can you? Getting up every morning and going to work at a hospital - or clinic - or morgue. I can't imagine, can you? Having no healthcare or rent or family or food - to have no choice of safety at all. I can't imagine, can you? Leaving… Continue reading Love from far away
No Accounting for Happiness 