Postcard from Mexico

Four beautiful things + thoughts on writer's block

Summer departed quietly. The heat slunk away and in came rains that poured through our semi-permeable apartment roof and soaked the furniture in a rank brown liquid. One morning I woke at dawn in a shiver and crept out of bed to get a sweater because my nightgown had grown inadequate in the course of several hours— and that was that, fall had fallen.

The…