Nothing Heard

Nothing Heard

I am alone on this night road, with nothing for company but the hum of the tires, the purr of the engine, and the transmissions – some as strong as if the speaker were sitting next to me, some barely audible beneath the static – fading in and out of the radio lying on...
The Best Part of the Day

The Best Part of the Day

Once upon a time, when traveling was a thing that people could do without worrying about inadvertently taking COVID-19 along for the ride, I drove up to Ashland early on a Sunday morning to join my boyfriend and his six-year-old daughter, who had been vacationing on...
The Little Things

The Little Things

Every year of the decade-or-so that I lived in Madison, Loran Miller would recruit me, as summer meandered into autumn, for the harvest. Handing me two plastic five-gallon buckets and pointing me in the general direction of the wheelbarrow, which I would need when the...