Two years ago I bought a fig tree. It was at once a thoroughly calculated and yet impulsive buy. I'd wanted to get a fig tree, I'd thought about getting a fig tree, I'd researched where I could even get a fig tree in Chicago,...
I don't remember the first time I read Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. It was in my adult life, that I know, well past high school, years past college. Maybe even after grad school. I don't remember why I chose to read that particular novel....
If you asked him, he'd tell you that I cry at everything. And, I suppose, in some ways, that's true. Because the girl he met did cry at everything. The girl he met was timid, shy, anxious, innocent, naive, emotionally unstable. Crying was her knee-jerk reaction...
The sun had moved, just enough, to start flooding though my living room window again. It gave the whole room the same glow that made me fall in love with the apartment in the first place. My fig tree noticed too and started blooming to...
When I was young, maybe eleven or twelve years old, I got a cactus. I named my cactus Mr. Bean and put it near the window of my bedroom. And it sat there, for a while, until it eventually died because I never remembered to...