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Tag Archives: Dysfunctional
While Some Throw Rocks at the Object of Their Fear
At her touch the raspy scales constricted and coiled, tensed into an anxious lowercase e.
Happiness
But then in time
Too soon it’s easy to forget
What it was like when she was gone,
What you were like without her there.
Please Don’t Sign the Guestbook
The Airbnb was quaint and quirky and we blew in with the wind, strewing makeup bags and wine coolers across the place like our signature: four best friends, there to whoop it up.
The Molted Skin of Childhood
He had gone away years before. Away, as in not there, not where Miranda was, not around when she needed him—or someone, anyone—to be in her corner.
