Articulating Memory

My mother was born in the forties.  I was her fourth daughter, born a few years into her fourth decade.  But the number four has never seemed particularly important to me before now, just another series of facts creating the pastiche of my generational identity.  The stagnant facts of my life, the answers to getting-to-know-you […]

Suicide City

When I am seventeen I live in the suicide state.  More people kill themselves here than anywhere else- or so I’ve heard.  It may be a rumor, but there’s substantial evidence to reinforce and validate the claim.  The hallways of my high school are lined with yearbook pictures of the kids who have killed themselves.  […]