Category Archives: Alphabet: A History

Y is for Yard

When I was a little girl in Queens, our yard was the street, the playground, the corner store. It was in Queens where I gained an affinity for the tempo of a city, the rat-a-tat-a-tat metronome of jackhammers, car horns, … Continue reading

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S is for Stallion

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of … Continue reading

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T is for Ten Years

This evening, after a day of errands and a lobster roll dinner, we parked our truck in front of our home and saw a pair of teva-sandaled feet pointing toward the fence, the body hidden by the hedge, next to … Continue reading

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U is for Urgency

My father keeps telling me how many years he has left to live, recalibrating his estimate each year, based on his general sense of wellbeing. He will occasionally announce like he did this year, “You know, I am 78. I … Continue reading

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V is for Value

V is for value. *value |ˈvalyoō| noun 1 the regard that something is held to deserve; the importance or preciousness of something : your support is of great value. I deactivated my Facebook account. I plan on returning to Facebook, … Continue reading

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W is for Wiener Dogs

I had just gone through a rough patch, the kind that leaves you looking for a new place to live, the kind that finds you living at a friend’s house for a month sharing a bed with a cat, even … Continue reading

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X is for x-ray

1. My first x-ray was in a New York City emergency room. I don’t remember how old I was, only that I was able to walk, had upper teeth, and yet still in the young days of non-remembering; perhaps I … Continue reading

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Y is for Yellowstone

I always wanted to take a cross-country automobile road trip, having never taken one as a small child. It just seemed so glamorous to me, so All-American; at the time, perhaps the two were linked securely in my mind. I … Continue reading

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Z is for ZYZZYVA

I wrote a story. It was the first and only story I’d ever written at the time. My UC Extension teacher, in whose post-day-job, evening fiction workshop I tentatively engaged, urged me to send it out. Where? I’d asked. I … Continue reading

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