It's early afternoon. Despite sun pouring through the windows, the room seems dimly lit. I know this room. There's a bathroom off to the side where I took my first shower—a rite of passage for a...

He sits beside me and tries to rein in all sixty-three of his jittery pounds, his brown hair uncharacteristically tamed save for the Alfalfa-like rooster tail, his dark eyes dancing about for a...

With the sun barely peeking over the horizon, Mom woke me with the announcement, “It’s plum-picking time.” “No,” I moaned, pulling the covers over my head. To me, picking plums was about as...

I lay the flat iron down next to the sink, and when I lean in close, I see the gray is creeping up again. I wonder if I should do something about it, thinking of all the ways I've worn my hair...