Category: 2025
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Growing Older
Years ago, my mom told me that memory is fiction. That each time we remember something, the memory is rewritten. It’s possible that she told me this in self defense, as explanation for her exaggerated stories, which are often altered within the hour of an occurrence. She likes to tell the one about the motel…
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Inside and Out
In the fourth grade, Dominick Montalero threw an uneaten chili dog at me. To be fair, “I” might not have been his target, but he lobbed it, hard, over the fence where we played kickball. My best friend Meghan and I had been taunting the boys. We had big, fourth grader crushes on a pair…
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Houses and Homes
I’ve lived in seven, or, eight, or nine apartments, houses, abodes, since I left Berkshire Court in Isla Vista (left, then returned to, but I say left for now). I’ll count them, now, on paper, because when I try to count them in my head I start remembering the details of each, I lose track…
Sophia Steffens 