Henrietta


I'd never liked antiquing before -- my mother half-dragging me around rooms full of musty nonsense that nobody wanted, my feet tired, my nose stinging a little from all that dust and "history." History in quotes, of course, because much of it seems to be weird plastic crap from the 1970s that got tossed out... Continue Reading →

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I Grew Up So Well


I may be up at 2 a.m. and it may be because I finished editing a short story I've been working on for a year and I may have just submitted it to my university's literary journal so I may be having a mini heart attack but also may be feeling so accomplished that I... Continue Reading →

Write.


I haven't written in so long...I'm sorry! ...No, that's not an apology to you, it's one to myself. How dare I let myself stop writing after I got a tattoo that says "write." How. Dare. I. You heard right, kids! Caps got tatted... The inside of my left wrist now says "write" in typewriter font.... Continue Reading →

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