Writer | Journalist | Storyteller





When my stepson was very small, he liked to talk about things that he had experienced, sometimes as recently as a week before or even a few days. It’s not like he could remember very far back. He didn’t have years worth of memories. It was more like weeks or months. A few weeks was a lifetime to him. He would say, “Remember that time when we went to the beach, with you and mommy?” “Yes,” I’d say. It had been just the previous weekend. “That was fun,” he would say and smile. He just wanted to...

A Genius In The Closet


When I was in the fourth grade, we had a genius who lived in my closet and smelled of garlic. He lived on the third floor of our house in Hatfield, Pennsylvania, slept at odd hours of the day, and kept his mail in our cereal cabinet. It’s a credit to my absolute belief in the normalcy of my family, that I didn’t find this strange in the least. The genius and I shared the third floor, which was basically a converted attic. His bed was near a large walk-in closet and that is where he...

Writer | Journalist | Storyteller


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