In San Diego International Airport, rays of sunshine blast headlong into the baggage claim area, warming our luggage on the turnstile. As we descend the elevator into main lobby, we New Yorkers can’t help but feel like vampires—the light, the light! 217 more words
Tags » Beyond Smallpeace
Here’s the thing about breast cancer: it has infuriating self-possession. When a lump decides to make an appearance, it does so on its own timetable, at its own discretion. 538 more words
Day 836 without a working bathroom.
All right, all right, it’s only day eight. Still, it feels like 836. And is evidenced by all the dirty laundry I have been lugging around on the subway, we are officially living like nomads, depending on the kindness of our friend and said friend’s blowup mattress. 232 more words
They had weathered the storm together, all four of them, neighbors in an old tenement building for nearly 20 years. All veteran residents of 9/11 and the blackout of 2003, they had learned from experience that being prepared was always preferable to being without light, without food, without friends, without an exit plan. 383 more words