“Hopeless romantic”—at least in this context—is an oxymoron born of outsider cynicism—hope is inherent in love.

It should cost a billion to look this good—to look this much like yourself, ever changing.

What does it mean that the same hospital wing scopes out both the start of life and its potential end?

It’s easier to trash fairytales and racism than it is to face the simplicity of my conundrum: that I’ve inherited the defunct reality of a stranger’s manifest desire.

You’ve been conditioned to witness the miraculous—seen every medical marvel flash before your eyes one thousand times on-screen—doesn’t she watch Untold Stories from the E.R.?

Rather than placing the burden of care on the ill and disabled, we are asking that Bread Loaf support a community of care from the start, so the conference is accessible to all.