Ruminations: 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…

Prose: Driving Home

I try to see, but not. It’s 6:14am. Nana slings open her bedroom door. She’s later than normal. I pop out of the twin bed in what should be the dining room and limp my way into hers. I’m still feeling the effects a fairly middle-aged woman might after too much dancing, whatever that means,…