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  • Tiny Islands

    Tiny Islands

    As I stepped on the tour boat, I got out my copy of the book. I was the only tourist with a book, at least one that didn’t have restaurant recommendations in it. I’d orchestrated a few days off after my meetings in Osaka because of a paragraph: Much praise had already been lavished upon Read more

  • Marigolds

    Marigolds

    The scent of marigolds is the happy smell of childhood. Not all of childhood, mind you; not the parts when a mother’s sharp blue eyes might have expected too much, the parts with raw sore throats or hot, world-ending tears. But the parts in the sun with my dad’s sure, warm voice explaining how to Read more

  • Going to Innisfree

    Going to Innisfree

    I went to Yeats Country when I was twenty-two, brimming with infatuation for all things Irish and poetic; while I failed to bring more than one substantial piece of outerwear, I had volumes of Kavanagh and Heaney stuffed in my school-sized backpack, the only luggage I’d brought. I was there to see the places from Read more