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Category Archives: Non-Fiction

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Mirror Mirror

During our early stages of life, our brains start developing a unique set of neuron cells called mirror neurons, which are located in the parietal lobe on the top of our brain where visual and motor abilities intersect. When a baby is just a few

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As American As Apple Pie

A woman writes a recipe because that is all she can write. Crisco, cold water, flour, five apples, cinnamon and sugar. She dips her young hands into the bowl and feels the comfort of the flour. Yes, the kitchen is her refuge, a promised land

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Insect City

In the city where I grew, we knew the chief entomologist by his first name. Far from the tropics, the city was visited by few spectacular, glistening, colourful examples of Insecta. Instead, we were plagued primarily by two pest antagonists, both humble in appearance. The

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Keeping Time

When I was a little girl, I viewed my mother’s fashion accessories as sacred objects. Silky, perfumed scarves. Buttery-soft kid gloves stretched over long fingers and polished nails. Slender three-inch heels with handbags to match and an array of belts that emphasized her slim waist

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This Is How You Move Through The World

This is how you move through the world when you’re a young boy: you just move.   Forward and back, side to side, and up and down. You climb trees when the days are fat with sunshine. You stomp down in muddy rain puddles. You

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Clean

The morning goes as it always does: my gramma gently pulls me out of bed at 6 a.m., an hour after she’s already had her Folgers, pursued her lips at the news, and quickly changed the channel to her soaps. I am five years old,

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Alexa, What Comes Next?

My dead grandfather won’t let me sleep at night. He’s highjacked my Amazon Echo and tortures me at all hours of the night. “Alexa, stop playing music,” I say to the dark of my room as Johnny Cash belts cry, cry, cry. It isn’t the

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Long Beach Island, NJ

For half a moment, my brother finally stands fully upright, his arms in perfect T-pose for balance. David looks royal, stiff posture, but also perfectly poised, relaxed, like he’s commanding the swells to rise and recede with his downturned palms; the surfboard glides in the

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Dr. Harvard and the Black Hole of Calcutta

DING DING DING  Out in the hallway, the woman with the sour smoker’s face is ringing a bell mounted on the wall next to the nurse’s station. It looks like the bell you ring to signal you’ve had enough of Navy SEAL training. I want

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Windstorm

Our new Chevy van is tan. It has four hot, sticky houndstooth plastic seats and a nest of wool blankets that smell like antique wax and alcohol solution. My dad uses these blankets to protect furniture he repairs and delivers to rich people. He makes