essays by shé

Tag: god

  • Welcome

    “Just don’t do laundry here,” said the apartment dweller. It was dawn, and I was shaking out blankets from the Jetta on a residential side street in Santa Monica, my hometown. I didn’t say, “Of course not. I’m homeless, not stupid.” I also didn’t say, “I am human, like you. This is the best I…

  • Bioluminescence

    Camped by Bahía Concepción under a fullish moon, I rinse my hands in the water and sparks fly. Delight! Skimming handfuls of sand across the surface elicits underwater fireworks. Bioluminescence. Years ago in Florida, I noticed the same phenomenon. So I stripped and dove into the Atlantic. Every stroke was a miracle, light streaming from…

  • House of the Ray

    I saw the face of god and it’s a ray. Investigating a new snorkel spot, movement flashes in the corner of my eye. Turning to my right, I’m startled by a ray and sea turtle close by. Large, both of them. I freeze. The ray glides in front of me, swoops around and down and…