I felt my heart surge. I thought: I've lived this long. Please. A little longer won't kill me. I wanted to say her name aloud, it would have given me joy to call, because I knew in some small way it was my love that named her. And yet. I couldn't speak. I was afraid…
Looking at the gloomy sky this morning and the rooftops slickened by rain, it's strange to think that, less than a week ago, the weather was sunny and bright and we were on our way to Half Moon Bay. Needless to say, it's been a long week--one of those weeks that seems endlessly plodding, like…
There were moments of such positive intoxication, of such happiness, that there was not the faintest trace of irony within me, on my honor. I had faith, hope, love. I believed blindly at such times that by some miracle, by some external circumstance, all this would suddenly open out, expand; that suddenly a vista of…
Writing things down really seems like work. They say work makes a man good and honest. Well, here's a chance, at least. -Fyodor Dostoevsky (Notes from the Underground)Time management has never been my strong suit. While I'm a person who gets things done, I often find myself completing tasks in the margins of time--when I…
Dining with Dostoevsky 