essays
“I don’t know what to do about it,” an essay by Laura Bernstein-Machlay.

“I don’t know what to do about it,” an essay by Laura Bernstein-Machlay.

On passing time in Detroit. “I’m so sorry, I whisper to the silence all around.” Monet, The artist’s garden at Giverny, 1900. This feature is available, in slightly different format, on Medium, here. Where I live, COVID-19 has landed like a tornado. It staggers and sways through Detroit and beyond, so everyone deemed nonessential stays under cover when...
“Time Slowing Down,” an essay by Karen Sullivan.

“Time Slowing Down,” an essay by Karen Sullivan.

“Civilized time has always felt bottled, and now it’s not.” Once, deep in an Alaskan winter in the abyss of a post-divorce-induced depression, I spent an entire Saturday sitting in the living room of my rented postwar cottage, rocking absentmindedly in a creaky chair, dog in my lap, staring through small frosted windowpanes at feathers of...
“Last Night I Cried,” by Paula Boyland.

“Last Night I Cried,” by Paula Boyland.

No guidelines for a new way of life. “On the surface, we’re still doing what we were doing before the world changed …” Last night I cried. I was pouring myself a glass of wine and debating whether to watch TV in bed or play games on the computer. Mid-pour, I was surprised by the tightness in...
"Birth, School, Work, Death": Contents & Contributors for Summer/Fall 2019.

“Birth, School, Work, Death”: Contents & Contributors for Summer/Fall 2019.

We present our Summer/Fall 2019 issue–“Birth, School, Work, Death” … Four phases of life, with the beauty in the details. If you wish, you can go to the Table of Contents and Contributors’ Notes on Medium here: Contents. All of our features are published there, too. Here’s what you’ll find in this issue … All...
"At Death's Door," an essay by Margie Patlak.

“At Death’s Door,” an essay by Margie Patlak.

Looking back and clinging to life. “But I just don’t feel old! I’m not ready to die.”   I was going to die. I had a brain tumor; it had grown back, I could feel it boring down into the roof of my mouth, and now I was going to die. I couldn’t accept it, couldn’t...