It's a familiar kind of chaos as the morning desert sun slaps me into Mommy mode and soon my house is swimming with kids and their appointed babysitters; the adults file into my truck for our carpooling journey, sans kids, to a hotel close to our school. We are there for a meeting about a fire that lit up the sky with smoke and orange orbs just ten days earlier, and it is still smoldering, much like the patience of the parents of too many children who are still at home, because the campus…

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We all have a clock inside us, and in order to make love, the hands on both clocks have to be pointing to the same time… If you love another person, you don't depend on a sex act to feel good. Two people who live together and love each other need to adjust the hands of their clocks, with patience and perseverance, until they realize that making love is more than just an encounter, it is genital 'embrace'.…

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They look like martyred marigolds dangling and dancing along her body as she lay dead on the precipice of her last journey. She is laid out on a lone pyre for the pious, which serves as a reminder to the poor that surround her remains, that her brothers' frantic begging in the shadows of 

the sunrise were not unwarranted. They rose with the knowledge of her death and the burden of her…

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It was an early October morning in the desert, and winter was beginning to cool the Hatta mountains so the boys could start their weekend cycling journeys, through its rocky peaks and valleys on a 140 kilometer ride, amongst some of the harshest landscapes of nature's most forgotten soil. I was the sweeper support car that day, which meant that I was the designated driver that rode behind the last rider, no matter how snail-like their cadence seemed to be. There was one beginner rider, who was… Continue

Chloe-

It's Thursday and I shouldn't be such a mess but my eyeliner is stronger than my resolve and quiet tears are pooling around the edges of my eyes making me appear to my fellow passengers in my train car of the moment like a dislocated suburban raccoon in need of a new can to feed from. The buzz of scenery on the outskirts of the city is like a rush of black and white polaroids that flash before me through the frosted glass of the train's window as dull time stamps of my…

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It eats and infects more than cells; it delaminates and attempts to unglue what is precious and just seems to gel so well.

We were simple pilot wives who felt forced to speak as we sat across from one another while our husbands were rooms away selling their competency and skill to an up and coming arab airline company. With stoic…

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