I’ve been nursing the same bottle of wine for days. As I write this the level is dangerously low. Two tiny little sips and it’s gone.

There may be more in the bottle, but I can’t be sure without going and checking and sometimes I just don’t want to know something for sure, you . . . → Read More: That Time I Told You I Was Psychic

I just realized I am not going to bed because I don’t want to be alone. I’d rather sit here reading and just kind of pretend you’re in the other room.

This makes me think, not for the first time, about my hate for interim situations and bridging gaps and the in-between place. It’s where things . . . → Read More: The In-Between Place

Okay, so the part about Ghee might just be on there because I need to add it to my shopping list. But the rest is my writing philosophy.

One is a duration of time. It could be one hour, it could be one chunk of time. What it really means is that I am . . . → Read More: One for Me, One for Thee, One for We, One for Ghee!

The pain in my head lets me know I’ve fallen. I know I shouldn’t have been trying to climb fences in my uniform. Really, I do know better. It’s just… there’s an apple tree in my neighbor’s backyard and I was really hungry so I decided to, as my mom says, “Make my own . . . → Read More: Breakfast Before School | Short Stories