On Friday I left my apartment
The following essay was originally published on my website.
“Oh, cool!”, friends say when they learn you’re moving out of an apartment. “Where’s your new place?”
When I started writing every day at the beginning of this year, I did so with the sole intention of simply writing anything at all. I didn’t have topics or burning passions lined up to riff on. My pieces to date have been written on the spur of a moment, often fueled by a passing…
That card, that fucking card, was still on the counter. The light above the oven cast grim shadows on the counter, which was littered with receipts and invitations, a hundred restaurants in New York that had prepared food for her or that desperately wished to. The card lay by itself, made visible by…
One, two, three; the transformers blew in succession down the road. For a moment we watched fireworks, washed blue and white across the hillside. The lights flickered then died. The stars of Hollywood Hills dim for the night.
This is day 105 of my intention to write something every day in 2016. Posted a day late for reasons cited above.