Cesca Janece Waterfield One year later, I am accepted into a small private college in North Carolina and the first essay I write as a freshman is titled, “The Shared Characteristics of Violence and Grace.” My composition professor is a man of stocky elegance with a Chapel Hill Ph.D. and instant recall of Jim Morrison’s poetry. He begins to dispense students to my dorm room … Continue reading Dissolution in the Dorm

That winter, when I lived in a 200 square foot apartment with laundry in the basement, I spent more than $200 on sheets, bedding and underwear. Continue reading On Death and Priming