The little girl on the swing looks sad.  Her mother is speaking into a ‘phone, its blue glow lighting up her drawn-in eyebrows and cheap mascara.  She’s gesturing wildly with…

We have the same eyes. Kind of peanut-shaped and poked quite far into our heads. It’s one of my favourite nearly-identical things about us. Mum says Lou’s are hazel. Mine…

A stubborn man wearing cartoonish golf shorts walked down a concrete path that ran parallel to a river that’s only a river by name. It’s not the lyrical Ohio or…