The Third Coat of Paint
In the fall of 2019, my best friend Lena and I moved into a freshly built duplex at the edge of a reclaimed industrial zone. The city had torn down...
In the fall of 2019, my best friend Lena and I moved into a freshly built duplex at the edge of a reclaimed industrial zone. The city had torn down...
I was eleven that summer, not twelve, and we lived in a house that had been in my mother’s family for decades, a rambling farmhouse in the hills of Virginia....
I’ve always had a strange sensitivity to the unseen. As a kid, my cousin Mira and I would play in my grandmother’s attic, where we’d ‘take care’ of the little...
We drove out to my grandmother’s farmhouse in the dry Oklahoma panhandle every summer, the same dusty two-lane road that turned to gravel about a mile from her porch. In...
In the autumn of that year, I moved into my grandmother’s old house on the edge of a dying town. The house was a relic of a time when people...
I was a normal kid. I had friends, a family who loved me, and a room full of toys. But there was always this ache, a hollow space in my...
My aunt Rosalind used to tell me about the summer she spent at her great-grandmother’s farmhouse, a place called the Hollow because it sat in a dip between two hills...
My name is Elara, and I’ve lived in the Atwood Flats for five years now. It’s a converted textile mill, all exposed brick and industrial-chic, but the charm wears thin...
I never believed in inherited curses, not until the summer we moved into the old Harlow house. My grandmother on my mother’s side had been a ‘seer,’ as the family...
My wife and I had just finished scrubbing the last of our faded affirmations off the bathroom mirror, leaving only the bold red countdown to our move to the coast....
My earliest memories are not of lullabies or picture books, but of the woman who sat on the porch swing of the old farmhouse. I was five, maybe six. She...
In the autumn of 2011, my grandmother’s farmhouse sagged under the weight of a century. My father had moved us away when I was an infant, so the journey to...
I never believed in anything I couldn’t see or touch. That’s why, when my cousin Mira and I moved into the old farmhouse on Birch Road, I laughed off the...
Listening to the woods...
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