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A family of aliens, the Big Dipper, an old wooden gazebo
By Our ReadersMarch 2006I take my son into the dusk, / under trees still heavy / with the season’s first rain. / We watch as the entire / face of the moon darkens, / like a child with a bad cold.
By Lee RossiJanuary 2006After I graduated from college, I worked as a prep aide at a large hospital. The prep aide was the person who went around each night and shaved patients for their surgery in the morning.
By Sybil SmithNovember 2005Spending the entire night together, being very brave, stitching yourself to reality
By Our ReadersOctober 2005My mother’s call came on a white December morning. I had forgotten to expect it. There was a time when I’d waited for it daily: the news that my father’s emphysema had finished him. He’d been given three to six months, and it was now five years after the prognosis. I was mystified by his survival.
By Lindsay FitzgeraldAugust 2005A Froot Loops message board, bicycle soccer, the MIT blackjack team
By Our ReadersAugust 2005The first sharp pang of desire hit me in the parking lot of my daughter’s preschool. It was a cold winter day in North Carolina, and as I buckled my seat belt, another mother maneuvered her gleaming new Volvo station wagon into the space beside my 1992 Honda Civic. She smiled and gestured for me to roll down my window so we could talk.
By Krista BremerJune 2005A cancer diagnosis, a positive pregnancy test, one last Sabbath dinner together
By Our ReadersMarch 2005Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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