minehahaforman

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Nature laughs last

Illustration of a bird flying.
  • Beginnings

    Beginnings

    I landed in Belize in the afternoon, a half hour earlier than scheduled. I had plenty of time at the baggage claim and waltzed through customs with a bored nod from the officer who barely looked up from his smartphone. On the curbside waiting for my ride, I checked Facebook and suddenly was struck by…

    July 18, 2015
  • Why I Loved–and Left–Detroit

    Why I Loved–and Left–Detroit

    Detroit is a bad city. I mean, Michael Jackson bad. Urban Dictionary bad. I love the country feel of the East side because it reminds me of home. I love the stylish realness of the West side because it reminds me what I left home to experience. I love being in a city full of black…

    May 26, 2015
  • Stuff–What is it all?

    Stuff–What is it all?

    Moving. You find yourself stuffing boxes with things like ratty old bedding, a rag rug you never finished (but plan to) or looking at a rusting metal ruler and thinking, Do I really need this? only to decide that the answer is yes. No matter how few possessions I think I have, when it’s time…

    May 19, 2015
  • Stale, Hot Cheetos

    Stale, Hot Cheetos

    Hot Cheetos. Stale Cheetos. Stale, hot Cheetos. I was well known in the city as a food critic, but no one knew the intricacies of my daily routine. They didn’t know, for instance, that every evening I filled my sink with warm water, opened a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos and set it at the…

    March 2, 2015
  • Short Wave

    Short Wave

    The year, 1996. The time, universal.
 Somewhere, far back-a-bush, “Mmm Bopp” squeaked out of a short wave radio into the humid night. The radio sat in a corner of a thatch hut, on a knock-an’-stan’-up table, its antenna broken crudely and splinted back together with a thick coating of flimsy scotch tape and an emery board. In the…

    January 4, 2015
  • The Storm

    A pony-drawn hearse rolled up for my father. He was still alive but very sick and surely would not survive the storm. There were murmurs of a great storm roaring our way over the hills and gaining power. The murmurs grew and spilled out into great worries and the worries turned to terror. We didn’t even board…

    June 16, 2014
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