You’re looking at the corner of a room. On the left stands a tall floor lamp with a square lampshade. Beside it is a stack of cardboard boxes, some open and some closed. The boxes are piled unevenly in front of a folding step ladder. The ladder leans against the wall. A small potted plant sits on top of one of the lower boxes, and a small bowl rests nearby. To the right, a pair of double doors with glass panes reflects faint light. The floor and background are otherwise empty, emphasizing the stillness and sense of transition, like a room being packed up or moved out.

The dismantling of a home (part 1)

October 19, 20251 Comment

Father and son, time and tragedy: how a life reduces to boxes. Told in 611 words on The Davis Daily.

A surfboard stands upright on a beach. It’s facing the ocean’s rolling waves, its tail end dug firmly into the sand. There’s a pattern on the back of the board: two sets of three wave-like lines running horizontally from side-to-side. The lines aren’t exactly symmetrical. The board has three fins near the tail end. One fin is close to the left edge of the board, the second fin is close to the right edge of the board, and the third fin is in the middle.

The secret to a bitchin’ ride

March 3, 202416 Comments

How not to surf life like a paddlepuss: 362 words about acceptance, resilience, and intention. The Davis Daily.