Derek MacDonald

Every day, I start my morning pages the same way.

Some days, you discover you're still cradling a coffee mug that's gone cold.

Chicken fried rice has such a consistent, distinct smell—for the most part. That peppery, garlicky, ...

Daylight soaked through the window by my shoulder. With a book laying open in my lap, I looked up to...

Other than the podcast I was listening to, the only sound I heard came from tires sloshing through t...

I used to dream of hitting a big, fat pause button that could stop time. Those dreams offered little...

Today while food shopping, I watched as someone got into position and blocked the doorway.

Last night I logged into Instagram and had an identity crisis.

After recovering from a mental health crisis about 10 years ago, running became a staple in how I le...