True Florida Stories
Every morning, my Oma fed the birds. She spread Pindakaas, a thick Dutch peanut butter, on old, crusty bakery bread and set the slices on a splintered wooden birdhouse. I watched the birds feast on the food throughout the day, and soon enough, the bread would be mere crumbles … Read moreGrowing up Dutch: When part of your identity fades to memory
I ran my finger around the edge of my glass, my tongue pressed flat against my front teeth as my mom threw out the same line I’d grown to dread, a song destined to never change tune … Read moreWhen doing well doesn’t mean doing OK
Siblings born together are said to have a supernatural bond. My brother and I do not … Read moreThe twin thing
The last night of October was crisp and clear. Linda sauntered along the quiet road — her half-black, half-white synthetic wig shining under the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps. The cold breeze didn’t seem to bother her despite wearing only a short, black dress and satin gloves that reached her elbows … Read moreA Halloween unmasking
Sanibel was a sanctuary, for its wildlife and its people. It was one big bird’s nest. It was a retiree’s escape. It was a kid’s Narnia. Now, everything was brown and nearly leveled … Read moreReclaiming wreckage