I stood at my kitchen counter. It’s granite. I’d always wanted granite counter tops, finally have them. I had just boiled six eggs and began tapping one on the stone, tap, tap, tap. I looked out my window at the construction going on behind our house. I see a white utility truck, a pick up, with wires and tool boxes affixed to its bed. An electric company’s truck.
Meg Kinghorn is the big weirdo of the Ella/Meg Salty City Writing Workshop collaboration. She teaches Creative Non-fiction and Memoir at the University of Utah and gives herself and any other writer crossing her path unmitigated permission to write whatever the hell they want.