Fault Lines
On Saturday morning, at exactly 11:03, I was sitting on the couch with my daughter when I realized that the upstairs was shaking. The glass rattled in the windowpanes. I stared up at the ceiling, half-expecting it to crack into
The Other Half of Me
Every day at eleven the elderly couple would sit at the rectangular table in the center of the square room that faced the restaurant kitchen. Within two weeks of my eighteenth summer I could put their order in the kitchen without bothering