I’m sitting in Brenna’s kitchen, Parisian café music playing from the Alexa behind me. Everyone is still asleep; I slept longer than I...

I pass Oma's neighbor today in the stairwell. I didn't realize she ever left her apartment without medical transport, but there she was,...

I want to write, because it's been one of those weeks where a million things happened, like candy tumbling from broken papier-mâché, and...

I've been waking before 7 am. The birds sing through the open bathroom window, the fresh morning air tumbles in. I look forward to each...

Sunday The day started with a flapping shoe: the only shoes Austin brought to Paris--a vintage pair of fur-lined boots from my Opa--were...

Friday Austin and I arrived in Paris on a Friday afternoon and hopped on a mostly empty coach bus to take us to our train station. The...