The Bleaks still hover, but breathing slowly in the darkness, my arms relaxed at my side, listening to my breath come and go, come and go, sadness creeping into my thoughts but getting nowhere, the flames earlier are now just embers which if I blow on them will reignite, so I don’t, I just lie there with my eyes closed and breathe, giggling when I remember the New Yorker cartoon on the bulletin board in my doctor’s examining room that he drew my attention to after prescribing Wellbutrin.
Read MoreOver the years, folklore has kept potential buyers of the mansion at bay.
Read More“Actually, the problem is there’s some kind of disconnect. Between the people who value Fook’s ukulele playing, and the people who have disposable income to dish out.”
Read More Sacrosanct with worship , here — this death
cult vilifying life in praise of the undying.
“the shame of being silenced due to her weight”
Read MoreHe’d suspected his dad was involved in secret government work, but now that he actually knew the truth he would have to be careful never to say a word to anyone, never to slip up.
Read MoreHe looked so natural, so comfortable out here in the wilds, with that lean, hungry look that most twelve-year-olds had, his muscles brown from sun and arms slightly too long for his body.
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