Read "Flash Fiction and Happy Accidents," an interview with Christopher DeWan on LitWrap.
Unpacking Home 

Since moving to Pasadena, I've been in a sort of haze. Maybe since the weather's been mostly cloudy so have I. Maybe the dust, taken to flight from dragging and arranging so much furniture, has been mucking up my brain. Maybe I'm exhausted from all the packing: wrapping up one's memories, boxing them, carrying them and hoping they won't break, and then trying to arrange them into a new place, where they don't yet belong. Trying to find new places for old things takes a toll.
Maybe it's all the latent hope, the potential energy of the bare white walls, the empty cabinets, the unfurnished floors, all the imagining of all the possible future lives that I'll live here.
At what point does the new place become home? Is it gradual, as it's seasoned with our experiences? Or does it happen because we invoke that magic word, "Home," like an incantation, a spell of slow teleportation and wishes-come-true?
Still lots more to unpack....

