LETTERS TO A YOUNG WOMAN

I want to light the candles, but that makes me think of the fire. So I sit like a deep-sea creature in the pitch black, trying not to imagine everything that burned.

In the Starbucks, I hover my hand over the two mouths of the trashcan holding a receipt from something I bought the day before the fire

With every closing of the year, I choose a word or a theme for the next. This year, the word that came to me is JOY. If there is anything...