Term: general-and-speculative-nonfiction
Explore all pages tagged with the term general-and-speculative-nonfiction below.
Three Steps Away
You cannot recline on that bench. A gently arching backrest would have been nice but the bench is attached to a wall. Its legs, made...
The Seven-Year Itch
Becca tells me it has a name, and it’s the seven-year itch. Then a grouse flies up from the dirt road, startled by the pickup...
The Idiom
Swirling a glass of wine at the bar, I silently rehearse the question du jour for my bartender-friend, Réjean, on my final night in Rouen....
Fifteen Stones
My childhood best friend travelled to Rome with her family when we were thirteen, and brought me back two film canisters, one black, one opaque...
Bucket List
There are some things I absolutely refuse to do again. The list is astoundingly short and may surprise you. I will never go to a...
The Tempest of Belluno
The sun peeks through green leaves and branches, encasing the dome beneath the canopy in a brilliant light show. With every gentle touch of the...
Sylvie and the Wild Boar
Sylvie had been my best friend since we were thirteen. She was always the baby to my boss, and each of us had always been...
Rats in Her Attic
I don’t remember the first time I met her. Surely, on either of my two previous visits to that dingy apartment, I must have seen...
Duino Castle and Rainer Maria Rilke
I have never met you. How could I have? You died twenty-seven years before I was born. That is why I am at Duino Castle...
Guatemala
It feels like someone has stubbed a cigarette out on my chest. It’s dark, the middle of the night. I’m in bed. And, it happens...
Homesickness
Had I ever been homesick? It was a fair question from my friend, Priscilla, as we sat in a Seattle coffee shop and talked about...
Susanna's Secrets
Auguste Rodin’s well-known bronze sculpture, The Secret depicts a mysterious object held between two hands [iii]. The hands around ‘the secret’ belong to two individuals....
Fruits of Summer
When the clusters of round green fruits peek out from under the broad leaves of the santol tree in our yard, I am filled with...
Four Arisings
Every story starts with the sun. The light illuminating the page you are reading began its journey over one-hundred thousand years ago. After it was...
Remember the Dead
My family has been making headstones and caretaking cemeteries for almost a hundred years. We’ve spent a lot of time thinking about death, memorializing it,...
No Deep Roots
I’ve done this before, I think. Maybe one too many times as my body denies the journey, tucked up in the front passenger seat of...
The Postcard
I live at the base of the Eiffel Tower, my windows framing the symbol of France like borders of a postcard. Every night on the...
Fernweh
The first week of my freshman year of college I found myself stumped by a question I had never been asked before. ‘Where are you...
The Catalan Lottery Ticket
It is February, 1974, a year before Generalissimo Franco’s demise. Things are tense in Barcelona. The angst is muffled by Catalan defiance and big city...
There’s No Place
Emma says home is where I am, and I say that my home is where she is. Sometimes, we joke that the spot she nuzzles...
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