It is her second backpacking trip ever. It’s a long drive to the trailhead outside of Mono Hot Springs. They stop at the general store to buy fishing supplies; under the glass counter, Panther Martin lures glint like jewels. There is a bear head mounted over the register, the bear the owner had to shoot when it ambled in the front door.
Continue reading… "Three Non-Fiction Pieces"It’s eleven-thirty on a Tuesday night. Beth and I lift clothes out of an industrial washing machine. The wet jeans are heavy, but they feel cool against our forearms in the hot laundromat. I feel something round and foreign in the back pocket of my cutoff Levi’s. I fish a sand dollar out of the dripping denim, hold it up against the fluorescent light of the Fluff ‘N’ Fold. A palm-sized moon.
Continue reading… "Moonrise Over the Fluff ‘N’ Fold"