Elodie Farms

Inside, it became very clear what kind of farm this was. A horned, white goat wearing a bow tie sauntered past without acknowledging me. “Hello, Frankie,” said the woman in the brightly colored dress.

Maplewood Cemetery

It was my grandmother who taught me how to laugh. And it was the Sister Edith, with the statue in her classroom of the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus in her arms and stepping on a snake with her bare feet, who taught me that there is more than one way to be strong. “You keep on picking the harder way,” she told me, and I just bared my teeth at her, or turned over the desks in her classroom.

Oak Island

Of four children, I was the basketcase. This is what my mother said of me. My father, too, after each of my tantrums or crying fits or what my older siblings came to call my “episodes.”

Edison Johnson Aquatic Center

It is a tiny exercise in faith, to trust that the shiny black path will be there, again, when I next look for it. It is a simple and perfect path, the length of the pool and back, and I follow it again and again.


Raymond D’s been living up the road from me for twenty years or more and he sits up at that bar nearly every night of the week that he’s not sitting on my porch and someone oughta ask him how he feels about that flag, but no one ever does.

Ayr Mount

The time we saw a ghost standing between us, the time we followed a tobacco trailer through the countryside until it stopped at the sea, the time we crushed the Lily of the Valley beneath our feet searching for mushrooms, the time we never found what we were looking for.

Oval Park

Everyone knows about the Dodo Bird, but who remembers the Golden Toad or the Arabian Ostrich? Bachman’s Warbler or the Bali Tiger? And what about the Caribbean Monk Seals? The Christmas Island Shrew? The Pyreanean Ibex, with its horns like daggers threatening the sky?

The Oaks at Northgate

There will be no picking of magnolia blossoms. Feel free to pick Black-Eyed Susans, chicory, and other wild perennials at will, should you find them growing on the grounds.

The Mothership

Just outside the circle, the fan oscillates in a lazy circle, the fronds of the palm plant fanning us in its wake. Someone stands to open the garage door and we listen as night drifts in.

The Dinosaur Trail

As a child, Sarah had been convinced that there had in fact never been such a thing as dinosaurs and that the archaeologists and paleontologists had somehow gotten it all terribly wrong.


Do you trust your neighbors? Do you agree that nature is the domain of spirits and deities? Is the river nearest your home polluted? Do wild animals affect your life? How much do you pay for rice?

East End Park

I’m really sorry I skipped my in-school suspension to walk around downtown and smoke cigarettes. I’m just so into exploring cigarettes right now – I think they’re part of my process, you know? Like, the initial fire and then the slow burn and then the broken, dirty stub – I think for sure there’s a metaphor in there, I just don’t what it is yet.

East Durham Bake Shop

Above me is a map of the world. Australia sits sweetly above my head in camellia pink, and beside me a jade plant pushes its dozens of green palms into the sugared air.

Jesus Time Tabernacle

...it seemed blasphemous somehow, thinking about Jesus as a toddler, or worse, a baby in diapers. But, Ashley supposed, he must’ve been one once, right? She had never thought much past the infant in the manger bit, like somehow in her mind Jesus went from infant to grown man to savior on the cross, but of course it couldn’t have happened like that, even if Jesus was a miracle.