When I leave yoga class on Wednesday nights, the air on that block is permeated with the smell and humidity of baking brownies and cooking fudge sauce.
When the thunderstorm opened up above us suddenly, the man who lies in bed all day under the El station behind my apartment gathered up his blankets, placed them in the dumpster with a lid and left the mattress to fend for itself while he went to find shelter.
When I was stuck in traffic on my way out to the periodontist in the suburbs yesterday, I was surprised by the smell of lilacs, which drew my visual attention to the midway, which was full of them.
Written on Friday, January 20. For My Friends. (That means you) - One of my dearest, oldest friends sent me a text today: "how has this day been for you?" The answer is easy and not easy. It is not very much different tha...