“The fish is so good here,” says my boyfriend. He’s eating a taco stuffed with swordfish. I say, again, “I had that the last time I came here.” My son is having a pork sandwich and his wife, a Caesar salad. I take a bite of my house salad with its peanut-flavored dressing. Cut a …
At the faculty meeting, people talk about the budget, an out-of-place period on a page of a course that I proposed, and I look down on the table, to the floor. I am wearing my aunt’s shoes, her necklace, her sweater, her perfume. As a colleague starts to talk about assessment, my mind tips back …
Spread on my towel, I try to pretend I am a sponge, that it is raining. The sun on my skin. It’s five pm, and the only thing that feels hot to me now is another breakup. I’m forty-three years old and this one went on for two years before I started voicing disappointment. The …