December 1, 2025
**Contains Triggers: death, mourning** There was no sense of winter, and certainly no sense of Advent. Summer or winter – she didn’t really care. She had nothing to look forward to in either season.
April 12, 2025
Combine the ground beef with the soup.
Use the bowl – the one she got from her grandmother.
Cut up the onion. Don’t worry. You have no tears left.
January 24, 2024
You looked at me. I sprawl like a spoilt garden at the estuary of spring.