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  • Fiction | Past Imperfect
    My voice trails off. I feel uneasy knowing that he never had this, the opportunity to travel, to experience the largeness, the difference, the confirmations and contradictions that come with living elsewhere. I think of the extra piano lessons he taught, all the hours he and Mom worked to send me over here the first time at the age of twenty-one. When I kissed them goodbye at the airport, I was afraid I'd waste what they had given me, convinced that somehow I'd squander this opportunity that had been presented by selfless parents.


  • Articles | The People You Meet
    Anyone who's spent more than five minutes in a backpacker hostel knows how repetitive the conversation can be. For the most part, these are places where people from all over the world stop in for a few days of cheap lodging, not so cheap beer and travel advice on their destinations of choice. The unfortunate side effect of this is that relationships in such an environment tend to be short and superficial.


  • Journalesque | Berlin
    She's elsewhere, staring at a "Wilkommen in Berlin" poster but not seeing it. I wonder if it was a mistake to bring her. Our relationship has never been easy and I have regrets, lots of them. They sneak up on me when we're together. I inhale sharply as I bend down to grab her small black bag and the tattered tartan fabric on the handle grazes my hand.


  • Journalesque | Siem Reap: Recalibration in Indo-China
    He's lived there ever since, his daily routine an impossible wish list of ambition. He teaches and cooks, cleans and solicits, builds and beckons. Prayer fills the gaps, gaps fill the prayers. His heart aches most for what it can't provide, for the children who will follow in his footsteps, things he'll never be able to right. He never mentioned himself, never lamented his own loss; he only measured that in what he couldn't make possible, regardless of supply or circumstance.


  • Poetry | I Ragazzi


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