Inspiratio ex Machina

My parents first entered the workforce with lofty goals of contributing to social justice and healing the emotionally wounded. My father did alright as a social worker, though the cases were often overwhelming and the bureaucracy oppressive, but my mother’s ambitions to start a career as an art therapist weren’t exactly panning out, and it’s … Continue reading →

They arrived by bus and by van, packed in tight like farm animals, tasting each other’s hot breath, smelling each other’s unwashed hair. When the doors slid open, the children burst from the vehicles and scattered across the ball field like fireworks. I arrived at the Foothills Summer Camp in similarly inglorious manner, dismounting my … Continue reading →

“It’s not so bad back here.” I had no idea what he meant, or why he was addressing it to me, so I faked a smile and gave the businessman a polite nod. Flights are uncomfortable enough without awkward conversation between strangers. “Usually I’m up there,” he continued, reaching over the seat in front of … Continue reading →

I was nine years old when I first became convinced of what I needed to do. At the time I was confined to my spacious baseball-themed bedroom with pinstriped wallpaper like prison bars, impatiently waiting for my mother to realize that I was perfectly justified in locking my brother in the basement. After all, he … Continue reading →

I guess it was one of those holy moments, you know, like if it was a movie there would be some kind of heavenly glow emanating from above, drowning everyone in God’s good grace. The entire congregation was standing and singing. Some people had hands raised toward the ceiling, shielding themselves from an invisible force … Continue reading →