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We need to stop talking about it, we need to put some pants on.

When I come to be old, I resolve not to tell the same story over and over.

I make a point of smelling the lilac every day that first week in May.

Best-selling author Melanie Gideon reads from her novel Wife 22.

The light is like a benediction. My husband reaches for my hand.

Dad is catnip to the lady residents. He’s tall and lean, plus he’s got all his hair.

I stop and look at the sky. Suddenly: orange, red, pink, blue, green, purple.

won’t you celebrate with me that every day has tried to kill me

“Ki o tsukete!” she called, and he knew the words. Be careful.