Trust me, you don’t rent an apartment over an Indian Restaurant because you love Indian food. You do it because of a lack of available rentals and to escape the dorms with their alcohol-drenched theme parties and communal bathrooms. Naitee… Continue Reading
Sunday, 9/9 The date had been circled on my calendar for months. The night before my flight from Nashville to NYC I used a red ballpoint to circle the word Tuesday and the number eleven. And then again and again… Continue Reading
“They look like little dolls of yarn,” Paul said. We were gathered along the length of the office windows staring down at the man we named Charlie. “The arms are up in the air, angled out like a ‘Y,’” Paul… Continue Reading
I’ve had my share of peculiar teachers; Professor Gonzalez who strapped a biper to a cord and ran like crazy through the classroom to exemplify what the Doppler Effect was; Mrs. Corujo who intentionally bumped her head in the wall… Continue Reading
“Hey, I think we broke something,” he said, shaking me awake. Ann’s dad always looks like the snapshot she’d had of him, taken on the Burma Road: bare-chested, center-parted hair, broad smile, burly. The clock said 2:45. Ann’s side of… Continue Reading
The last survivor of 9/11 died today. She had walked out of the South Tower after the first plane hit the North Tower. She made her way to her tiny apartment and stayed for three days without opening the door… Continue Reading