Our parents hid Their history from us They swallowed Their pain They didn’t want us to lose our way In bitterness or anger –Ann Muto,
It took four different calls. The first call was three-and-a-half seconds long—my ears heard the first ring go through, but it was my thumb that
My night table hums to me. I throw the warm comforter off of my body and pull myself out of bed to find the source
The familiar ringing of an outgoing FaceTime call travels through the room. The vibrations of its sound waves are felt strongest near my heart, but maybe
View More