the eyes looked the same on the officers' faces
all trying to convey a point of feigned sadness
mixed with their more pressing truth
well, it could have been worse
the faces and the roads changed, across state lines and crashing waves
but the story is still the same
we had something that he wanted
so he took it
when they think they're being friendly — they know who they are
they are nameless, sometimes faceless but they are the same
asking for a smile
a piece of candy
in the dark crowded rooms they take but in…
nothing feels better than putting things away, mugs stacked on top of each other, books standing upright and proud, dust tucked into corners, intimate treasures in their homes hidden from the sun
whispers into the nights, turns around an empty room, repeating the ticking of the clock, the march of the celestial circles following an invisible path
many things feel better than putting things away — a delicate kiss on the cheek, a ship returning to shore and arriving, the soft sweep of a leaf fallen to reunite with the grass, the soil underneath, but we bargain with so little…
Our relationship with music changes in the way that our relationships with others change. Not that long ago, we used to walk around with Walkmans, physically rewinding the tape to listen. Now, we walk with our ears in our headphones and phones sitting in our pockets playing the soundtrack to our daily lives. Instead of burning CDs, we make playlists share our musical tastes, and instead of switching out CDs in our cars, we plug in our phones. Our relationship with music grows and evolves as we do.
Now we’re surrounded by the immediacy of songs, with hundreds of thousands…
the violence of fireworks on New Year’s
beginnings, it seems, are not without destruction
small pockets of New York light up slowly descending upon still homes and babies crying out into the night, starting the year in fire seems cynical but we gather with families to watch light explode into the darkness, and pretend the seconds changing into years change us. the fireworks climb higher into the pockets of the sky and hold still in our eyes until they fizzle into the night, and I quietly count off each one as pieces of you that have clung to my memory…
Why do we love buzzer beaters? The rush of the moment, the anticipation, the lingering loss or win that comes down to mere seconds, standing on your feet and mentally preparing for the worst. The stakes have never been higher, the voices louder, the heartbeats faster. When everything is on the line, there are stakes, an end goal, and a timeline. What if writing was like that?
Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Meredith, there’s no way you can make hitting word count feel like a sinking a buzzer-beater in then 08 NBA Championship!”
To that, I say: “How did…
I started writing a book in early September. It was something that I’ve always dreamed about doing but made excuses / just thought it was going to happen someday when I was older and wiser and had more free time on my hands. Then I got more free time on my hands, no longer confined to travel and train schedules, I would waste away my days after work watching television and scrolling through Twitter. I then read through an email newsletter that I signed up for months ago from GrubStreet. They offered classes on writing, something that I had been…
It’s so hard to subtly state that I miss my friends. I miss spending nights, chasing the darkness and ubering home in a blur, or walking the streets back from the bar stopping at roadside food establishments or $1 pizza places. I miss being able to travel and visit them, taking in newc city sights and seeing where my friends landed after college.
Our friends are staples in our lives. A lot of them we’ve had since middle school. It is a miracle that a lot of my friends have stuck around since even elementary school, where I had transition…
New York native with a Boston twist, I’m a recent college graduate trying to navigate through all the changes, challenges of my early to mid to late twenties.