A Hope Chest for Today
I detangle earbuds before including them, ready to start a playlist inspired by fleeting feelings my words can’t capture.
I detangle earbuds before including them, ready to start a playlist inspired by fleeting feelings my words can’t capture.
Her comment broke the meditative silence of our post-dinner respite, and we stumbled into the idea with the dazed confusedness of young students in the presence of wisdom.
I prefer everything with subtitles anyway.
The moment I began to slide, I thought of nothing.
Like Agnes, I decided this unicorn would be mine.
“What part of this job are you looking forward to?”
“Decorating a hallway.”
Buying a feeder isn’t something one does on a whim; it takes planning.
I’m not sure if that makes me a “bad feminist” in the same way that wanting a perfect body made Fleabag a “bad feminist,” but I wish I had known more about RBG when I was younger
Fergie and the goldfish, thankfully, seemed unaffected.
Does it matter that this particular person voting for a corrupt, anti-democratic, avowedly racist and misogynist leader is also a “prayer warrior” and a “champion of the faith”?