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I wake before light. Not because I want to—because the sound changes. Truck tires hit a rough seam overhead and the thump runs through the column beside me, into the ground, up through my ribs. That’s how mornings start here. Not with sun. Not with birds. With that jolt, like a reminder I didn’t ask for. It’s cold. The kind that doesn’t stay on the outside—finds its way in and lingers under the skin. I pull the blanket tighter where it’s still dry. One corner’s soaked through

I was walking in New York City somewhere in the Upper West Side. My wife had ducked into a store and the ‘shopping mode’ switch had been fully flipped so I knew I had plenty of time to roam. With my mind wandering faster than my feet, I headed in one direction and counted with the cross-street signs as I walked…86 th … 87 th …88 th . Although it felt refreshing to be out of the Florida summer humidity, I occasionally had to dab perspiration from my forehead from the hot midda

I The mid-morning air along the National Mall still carried yesterday’s rain, damp patches of gravel slick underfoot. Rafael Soria cut across with measured urgency, polished shoes striking hard against the stones. His watch told him he was late. Beyond the trees, the Capitol dome rose pale and exact, waiting. Ahead, two teenage boys shoved at a motorized wheelchair mired where grass met path. Its wheel spun uselessly, grinding deeper. The man inside, elderly and round-shoulde

Written in 2011. 1. Set Goals, then go with the flow. Take the path of least resistance. That doesn’t mean the easiest route, but let things happen. Everything happens for a reason. Don’t force it. This also means knowing when a path is ending and it’s time to find a new path. Create a road-map for yourself but be prepared to change it. The world will give you what you want but it will not completely conform to your vision of it. The true experience of how this vision plays o

I’m driving in the Monday morning stop-and-go traffic and thinking through my day and week…and life. This is gonna be fun substituting for Mr. Jones’ eighth grade science class this week. Every now and again I volunteer to substitute because it keeps me closely connected to the kids; plus it reminds me of my old teaching days. It’s quite different from my administration duties of being the school’s principal. I treasure being the principal, too. I’ve made education my home by

The marble floors of the Capitol Complex gleamed like they’d been stripped of memory—cold, spotless, incapable of shame. Madison Pienkowski walked them like she belonged, her borrowed Louboutins clicking out a rhythm meant to sound expensive. Her coat, off-white and cinched at the waist, trailed just enough to feel theatrical. She wore it like armor. Beneath, her phone buzzed twice—rent, final notice. She didn’t flinch. Later. A pane of glass between committee chambers caught

“Goodnight Carter, sleep tight!” My mom just tucked me in. Tomorrow is Saturday and I can’t wait! Me, Lexi, and Beth are planning on meeting at the pond first thing in the morning to catch frogs. You see, Lexi, Beth, and me are all next door neighbors, we are the same age, in the same fourth grade class at Baker Elementary, and we are best friends. We live on a street called Bouncy Loop. It’s really cool. The street makes a big loop, the houses are on the outside of the loop

“Come back here this instant!” Mom shrieks as she forcefully seizes my arm jolting me out of my reverie. She pulls me back. “What, Mom?” She says angrily, “You are NOT to go past the marker-boulders, under any  circumstances and you know it. I don’t want you even close to them. I have been telling you this since you could crawl. Do it again and you’re going into the confinement chamber. Is that understood?” “I didn’t go past the markers, Mom.” I can’t stand it when my mom yel

Saturday night at the local five-hat seafood restaurant and the kitchen is firing on all cylinders. The kitchen doors are continually swinging open as members of the wait staff circulate in to hurriedly pour glasses of ice water and assemble appetizer dishes, only to exit with a heavy tray propped up on one shoulder. Plates are clanging. Serving trays are flying. The cooks are assembling delicious fried seafood on plates as fast as the orders come in. “Need mo’ scallops!” sho

“The baby is doing just fine Ms. Jenn. You’re a natural,” whispers the nurse, Ms. Thelma as she finishes up her routine vital check of the baby’s heartbeat, breathing, and temperature. Yesterday, Ms. Thelma was a complete stranger but now she seems like the older sister I never had. “Thanks Ms. Thelma, you’re the best.” I say, as she slowly pulls the door closed leaving me alone with my brand new baby. The hospital room is cramped. I’m sitting on the bed encased in metal fram