If you squinted and sloshed the rectangular flask just a little, a light, slimy scuzz stuck to the bottom. The liquid was filmy, opaque and pinkish. My labmate was groaning softly, staring into the tiny universe held daintily between her gloved thumb and forefinger. “I think they’re dead,” she said. The line for the microscope… Continue reading 62. Chinese hamster ovary cells

The car was too full. We’d already snagged a ’70s side table with a magnetic front and nifty particle board construction. We wedged a rocking chair behind it, a dresser behind that, a couple of woven baskets, a small pile of books. “It’ll fit,” he said, grunting as he shifted the chair here, wedged a… Continue reading 61. creaky rocking chairs

I’ve been thinking a lot about burning things. Wait: let me rephrase. I haven’t been thinking about burning as a verb—I do not want to go out and do the burning. It’s the things that are already burning that I’m thinking about. It’s the forest fires raging across the state of Oregon that are softly… Continue reading 60. combustion