All Stories
Work
I stare blankly at the stack of reports in front of me, my mind racing with everything I need to get done. Suddenly, the coffee machine starts beeping, reminding me it's time for my caffeine fix.
Awkward
I tripped on the bus steps and face-planted in front of a group of giggling school kids. On my way to work.
Pets
My hands are still sticky from the peanut butter incident. It's been weeks since I attempted to train Lola, our hyperactive corgi, to 'shake hands'.
Family
My grandmother once turned our kitchen into a crime scene, declaring that the culprit behind the great lasagna heist was none other than myself, caught red-handed. The smell of burnt garlic still lingered days later as a family of detectives worked tirelessly to clear my name, but the real mystery remained unsolved – how she managed to memorize my every move, even when I was stuck in the bathroom, too engrossed in the world outside to realize I was being watched.
Travel
The smell of my aunt's famous fried chicken follows us onto the plane, an aromatic anchor tethering me to the suburbs. As we soar into the air, the seatbelt sign flickers above, and I squirm in seat 17C, the armrest digging into my ribs like a judgment.
Holidays & Events
Sometimes my relatives' house feels less like home than a giant awkwardly-shaped closet. The Christmas tree in the corner, covered in gaudy ornaments and half-undone bows, casts long shadows on the worn carpet as I stand there, clutching my obligatory gift.
Texting & Social Media
Glancing down at my palms, I noticed that last night's pizza sauce stains were now expertly paired with my morning coffee rings, like two old friends embracing on my hands. This is why I always swipe right on "no makeup selfies" for solo nights at home.
Misunderstandings
I tripped on my cat and face-planted into the breakfast cereal. I was late for a meeting anyway, but I was pretty sure my coworkers hadn't seen me with Froot Loops stuck to my face before.
Texting & Social Media
It was as I sat on the bus that I noticed my thumbs hovered involuntarily above the cracked screen of my mother's old flip phone. We'd had the conversation - or at least a heated monologue - about the futility of paying full price for a smartphone and, by extension, all its attendant costs.
School
My backpack weighed more heavily than my grades when I lugged it onto the bus. It was as if I'd spent all night cramming textbooks, but really I'd spent all night trying not to trip on my mom's antique vase.
Friends
I've spent the last three days practicing how to cook eggs, mainly scrambling and making overeasy; my friend Claire asked casually while we sipped coffee if she could come over for a cooking session before work and honestly, nothing's changed, still slightly overestimating our kitchen skills.
Food & Dining
My grandmother's sugar Cookies usually came off round with a weirdly perfect crater in the middle – an indentation from the spoon she'd used to measure out the flour. It's weird that I associate those cookies with her kitchen being a place you needed a coat to feel warm at Christmas time.
Holidays & Events
New Year's Eve was unfolding like every other year, with the same tired routine: eat my mom's mediocre meatballs, pretend to have fun at my cousin's friend's open-bar apartment, and attempt to will the crowd into a decent countdown without anyone shouting "Ten seconds!" like I do. In an ill-fated bid to participate, I tried to dance, resulting in me bumping into a lamppost, a bewildered cat hissing at my knees, and, unfortunately, a minor scuffle with a flailing umbrella over control of the last slice of mediocre pizza.
Work
My fingers are still cramped from that time I transposed two decimal places in a critical software patch and had to rebuild the entire module. The fluorescent lights in the office seemed to spin in slow motion as my coworkers stared at the screens displaying the code I'd written, waiting for me to explain how I'd managed to miscalculate the decimal point by a factor of a hundred-thousand, effectively crashing most of the western seaboard's internet.
Travel
For a blissful five minutes, I forgot where I was when they asked me to pay for the overpriced hostel Wi-Fi in the middle of a Cambodian village festival, the cacophony of motorbikes blurring into a pleasant background hum.
Awkward
My shoes scrape the linoleum as I fumble through the classroom doors, tripping over my own feet like a flailing puppy. Today's lecture begins at dawn.
Travel
The dim glow of my phone illuminated the worn, leather seat beside me as I fumbled with the safety belt on the crumbling Italian bus. I'd never been good with words, but something about my Italian phrasebook seemed to be triggering involuntary Italian monologues.
Strangers
As my gaze wanders out the window, I spot him. Again.
Travel
Sometimes a foreign hotel room's eerie silence makes me rummage through the bathroom drawers for some semblance of comfort. My fingers dance over the cheap hotel toiletries, the ones with garish labels and dubious fragrances, as I attempt to create a mini- routine.
Family
I'm mortified. I was trying to cook dinner for my family last night and I ended up setting my favorite apron on fire.
Family
The way my mom arranged her spice rack as an ode to symmetry drives me to distraction, yet somehow her obsessive neatness puts me at ease on chaotic days like today when my sister's cat decides to shred my only good sweater as revenge for neglecting its 3 a.m. wake-up call.
Kids
My grandmother has this peculiar habit of hiding an enormous rubber spider under her tea towels when we come to visit. It's this enormous, furry monstrosity with giant, beady eyes that sends a shiver down the spines of both my siblings and me.