Month: August 2008

The sun sank in streaks of pink beyond the pond. A fountain

Lynne Golodner August 31, 2008

The first time I walked into Justin’s yoga class, I was ready

Lynne Golodner August 28, 2008

Monday: Shaya and Eliana pushed kid-sized carts at Hiller’s while I checked

Lynne Golodner August 28, 2008

Writing teachers always say that the hardest sense to convey in words

Lynne Golodner August 27, 2008

To wake one eye at a time, breath deepening. Absolute quiet all

Lynne Golodner August 23, 2008

My memories of shwarma: Thick, jagged cuts of succulent lamb dripping grease

Lynne Golodner August 22, 2008

I close my eyes and go back to Oregon. June, two months

Lynne Golodner August 21, 2008

Eight years ago today, 350 people milled about several decorated hotel banquet

Lynne Golodner August 20, 2008

A plane buzzed beneath the clouds. Insects whirred and screeched in the

Lynne Golodner August 19, 2008

I sat on the concrete porch, the late-day sun warming my face.

Lynne Golodner August 17, 2008