Written in collaboration with and co-authored by Angel Caruso @ezmaniac She would always play Fleetwood Mac when she was in her bitter moods...

Mama Ana My grandfather watched his mother succumb to dementia. I remember her, Mama Ana. She was present during all the holidays that we sp...

3:00 A.M. at the Belmont Diner, I watch the cream swirl as it blends,       joins, into the coffee. I take a bite of buttered toast with ras...

Morning begins again. The rooster pattern on the sheer linen curtains Is now distinct from the darkness. Dawn lingers in a gray twilight. Th...