Silent America

Senses are heightened. Look around. Notice. I push the radio off button, roll down the windows and soak up the humidity. A faint cool breeze chills my left shoulder, tickling thoughts of early mornings, Mom driving me to the mill where the yellow school bus waited for me. The air thick with the scent of…

Paris, My Love

I had no idea how long we’d been on the bus, only that I’d fallen asleep somewhere in-between the rolling green peas and our emergence into the City of Light. The boat-lag oscillated between my head and stomach while my eyes opened to a fraction of the enchanted view I’d only previously seen through French…