Nonfiction

Nighttide

When I close my eyes at night, the first thing I see is a great ball of wool, lit up like neon in my inner vision. It’s intricately rolled, an Ariadne-ish weave...

I Will Hold It, My Love

There is a photograph, a portrait of my family from 1998 that hangs on the wall in our dining nook. My 15-month-old daughter is obsessed with looking at it. In ...

Like Falling Asleep

My daughter was born blue. No oxygen. Her cord was pinched in the squeeze before birth just long enough to change her color. She came out and the nurse whisked ...

Sons and Daughters

A sprawling area of Berlin’s central cemetery has been cordoned off due to construction, and no matter which way I turn, I find myself moving away from my goal....

Red Wine Pasta

You are sitting on the large bed at the far right corner of the room watching him fold his carton-coloured pants and signature long-sleeved, striped shirts into...

Object Permanence

1. The first time my father disappears, I believe he’s gone forever. He slips behind a veil of his own fingers, and everything I know about him—his twinkling...

Spring in Chisinau

Gorgeous morning in the awakened city, fresh new green, the angled rays of the sun glittering in spider webs, birds twittering, the fragrance of buds, grass dre...

Abracadabra

Abracadabra It was once a word with power, before hokey top hats and scarves stuffed up sleeves: write it on papyrus eleven times, dropping the final letter ...