Grief was the catalyst to jumpstart my writing; sharing my voice with others has been proven to be the ultimate creative muse.
Read MoreIt’s 1986, and I’m a brooding teenager who’s already irritated with the world when she decapitates my plan to deflower my left ankle when I turn 18.
Read MoreHe had outlived the love of his life, existing solely in the shadow of his own sorrow, depleted by grief. He’s alone, heartbroken, and already isolated enough as it is. And now, we faced the threat of quarantine looming over our Sunday afternoon routine. It broke my heart wide open.
Read MoreEveryone I know likes their eggs cooked a specific way. For me, it is one of the ultimate intimacies, up there on the list with how they take their coffee, or what they don’t want on their sandwich.
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