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The Lonely Days of Parenting Teens

The way the crows fly in an angry circle over the hill near the hospital every evening around this time, 4:30pm — 4:45pm. They yell and scream, their cries echoing from the church and the Whole Foods. Soon enough, the entire circle moves westward, though they stay connected. The formation is unruly, and they fall out of it every couple of minutes, only to re-group again, an undulating black wave, spiral-surfing the sky. I’ve lived in this spot for going on three years, and it’s been happening so regularly that I stopped noticing it altogether. It only came back to my attention recently because I…




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Carvell Wallace

Carvell Wallace

This is where I experiment. This is where I learn to write.

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