Nothing Ahead
It comes the way certain dreams do, a road that feels known without ever being seen.
Archive
Beginnings
Where land thins into water, the ground gives way without warning. Sand slipping underfoot. Forms never quite hold— they soften and shift before they settle.
Open Line
Someone is already talking when the call connects. Another voice comes in, slightly late, slightly off. No one stops. The exchange continues, close enough to follow.
Half Like Home
Something shifted before the wheels left the ground, barely noticeable, as if what was familiar had already begun to recede. What lay ahead had no clear shape yet,…
Twenty-Six
Twenty-six hours in one place. A place meant for passing through. Lines hold. Bodies stay. Seats fill and empty, then fill again. No place to rest a head.
Unfinished Hours
a poem by Kerry Ann Wiley The hours move forward, interrupted by brief, unspoken turns that linger longer than they should. The scenes arrive in sequence: dusk against…
Thirty-Five Minutes
The light above the stove flickers when she touches the switch. It always does—once, twice, then a low buzz before it stays on. The bulb is new. The fixture is not.
Nothing Went Wrong—and That Was the Problem
The conference room was already warm when Michael arrived—the kind of warmth that comes from screens, lights, and equipment running long before anyone enters.
The Indirect Effects of Immigration Enforcement on Disability Related Services
Immigration enforcement and public service systems such as education, health care, and disability support often function independently, but in the lives of many families, they overlap in complex ways.
Emotional Concussion as an Unrecognized Limit
Some experiences are recognized only after behavior changes. The first indications appear as small, sensible adjustments made to keep daily demands manageable.