A big man breaks into our house. When he leaves, we have more stuff than when he came. He does not know about Marie Kondo....

There were nutty buddy’s and pay days and individual boxes of fruit loops. A large vat of dirt-water coffee, sad bananas and droopy pears. She twisted the three dollar bills around her fingers.

Kit Kat’s and snickers. Bubble gum and spearmint Altoids.

Her lunch break would be over in fifteen minutes, she would have ten minutes to eat if she picked something right then. But maybe she needed to go ...

My breath materializes in front of me, a genie’s smoke spilling out of my mouth, and it asks, ‘what do you want?’

Across the street, a snowman’s shadow lies limp on the grass. Its carrot has slipped low on his face, the body slouched as if it is grieving.

‘What do you want?’ my breath asks again, the white billows looming over my face.

My hands are frozen, my nose is frozen, my toes are numb s...

In the mirror, my body flows in and out of itself, big and small, tall and short, my hips narrow and widen, as my brain sorts through who I am supposed to be. I want to be grounded, connect to the earth, bring my feet into the grass and latch softly, but firmly. But when I think of myself in nature it is about the knobby fingers and the slender body of an aspen tree, drifting up and up into the cl...