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They merge in the middle to exchange bits of accumulated knowledge like...
I’m the little sister my little sister never had. “You need to do something with your hair,” she says. “It’s too flat.” I tell her it’s dry, that there’s nothing she can do, and she shakes her head....
View ArticleShe can be whoever she wants to be.
Every time I pick up a pen to begin, I see the little girl in the oversized t-shirt with straight brown bangs hiding her big blue eyes. I can’t remember when they turned hazel, only that it’s been too...
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Polaroids & Playgrounds
She’s seventeen. December is slipping through the spaces between my fingers and so is she. So is she, head hung over the rubber tire swing, arms flopping at her sides, mouth agape. In a few months, I...
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