Writer, journalist, poet.
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Almost Love: Part Three
The more time passes, the more we realize that this cannot last. We are ridiculous, clutching to something that always had short shelf life and too many expectations. We are the Someday People, knowing that someday never comes and never taking any real risks on each other, emotional or otherwise. We are lovers who can never admit to being any such thing. Knowing it has to end, though, makes every moment feel inevitable; right now is all we will ever have. It is an addiction, necessary, hard to put down and impossible to walk away from. We are like tides of the ocean, pushing away and pulling together, never quite able to escape. Unsure if we even want to.
Almost Love: Part One
I see him standing across the room like a cliché, only we aren’t at a dimly-lit bar and this isn’t a romantic comedy. I know going into this that our story, if we even get one, has no happy ending. Given that I am entering into something with the unintentional (but no less inevitable) consequence of destroying something else, given that I am using the skills I have to achieve what I want, given that I have repeatedly damned the consequences, I know full well that karma will eat me alive by the end.
His Wife Asked If We Could Be "Just Friends"
When I stopped speaking to him, I constantly worried that I might run into him somewhere. I kept imagining scenarios where I'd be out to dinner with friends and look up to see Jack across the restaurant, or I'd be at a gas station and he'd pull up to the pump next to mine, or something. But as months went by without incident, the less I thought about it - it hadn't happened yet, so it wasn't likely to. We clearly had lives that were different enough, separate enough, that simply ending our connection was enough to cut off contact completely. Sometimes that made me sad, but mostly I figured it was a good thing. It saved me from unplanned interactions with Jack; I didn't know how those would go anymore.
Mort or Petit Mort?
It started as a joke. A bunch of college kids sitting around, having a laugh; a moronic hypothetical scenario. What if we crossed a line? What if we did something that would require equal parts nerve and stupidity? What if, what if. That’s college for you; too much alcohol and not enough sense. In a world where people have become so careful, so safe, we wanted the high of doing something dangerous. Something most people would find insane, disturbing. To be honest, those people, these imaginary folks who served as my often-silenced voice of reason, wouldn’t have been wrong. It was disturbing. But once I got a taste, I couldn’t stop.
When They Asked Me, I Lied
Three girls stand in the front row at my grandfather’s funeral. Three cousins, arms linked as if they’re playing that old game Red Rover, as if at any moment someone might barrel into them to tear them apart. Everyone present knows that someone already has; at least, he tried.
Grace Fryer | Women of History
Grace Fryer’s life and death were instrumental in shaping occupational labor laws. As one of the Radium Girls, she changed the way companies treated their employees in a precedent-setting case. This is the incredible story of Grace Fryer, the subject of this edition of Women of History.