I Wish I Could Cry With Your Eyes (2026)

A whitewashed wild olive tree once stood as the family’s enduring emblem. Now, his father and brother have felled it—clearing the way for their grandmother’s car to pass more easily. From far away, the author pens a letter to his brother, meditating on home, heritage, and the ache of letting go of what once anchored them. Each return is shadowed by friction and old wounds, yet he clings to the fragile thread of their connection, even as it frays.