And my heart is like the sea, always in motion

My short story "Imperator Noster" is now freely available online as the twenty-seventh installment of Maya Chhabra, Jo Walton, and Lauren Schiller's New Decameron.

This concentrated hit of secret sea-history was originally published in Genius Loci: Tales of the Spirit of Place (ed. Jaym Gates, Ragnarok Publications 2016) and inspired by C.S.E. Cooney's enigmatic summary of her 2014 New Year's: "On parties. And seaweed. And Roman Emperors." The Romans called the Mediterranean Mare Nostrum, "Our Sea." The title of the story is the same construction—"Our Emperor."

I am so glad to have it be part of this cycle of stories now. I look forward to the day when it will be safe again for everyone to go to the sea.

A sort of jewel case

I saw my mother this afternoon for the first time in more than a month. She took a picture of me through the window of her car. When she got home, she sent it to me captioned "The crouching cat."



I took her to see the cherry blossoms, by which I mean that I walked down the street and she followed me driving. It is terrible not to be able to embrace people you love, but it is better that they stay alive to be hugged later.

( It's not so tragic. )

We skimmed the schmaltz off the soup this afternoon (and saved it to cook with, because we're not barbarians), re-simmered with the bones and vegetables, and then strained it out at last into proper soup. Everyone else I know seems to be baking all the time. I suppose this is the pesachdik equivalent.