No Room for a Relationship_Not Out of the Woods Yet_Ashley_Homemade Marmelade
Catalog Guide:
No Room for a Relationship
WhiiieeeAnne’s gaze was fixated out the window, savoring the view; the empty street, the singular tree towering in the front yard, the birds frolicking and competing for the lone bird bath.Whiiieeeeeee!An escapee tear strode down her face. Her knuckles white as they gripped the countertop. Steam started to fill the kitchen and her nostrils stung, as if she wanted to sneeze, instead they flared, irritated by the humid air and the lingering smell of dust. Her ears penetrated by the loud whistle. Loud enough now it started to ring out her own thoughts.“What the hell Anne?” Glen said, the kettle l...
Not Out of the Woods Yet
[Trigger warning: illness]‘Thiwww.onedoor.ccs is dope. I’m going to meet Jim Jackson next week’ I tweet and watch the replies: “pass on my hopes for his recovery.” “UR soooo lucky.” “jim is an inspiration.”Jim hasn’t replied to me at all, despite me being his greatest fan. I’ve been with him since the beginning. I know, he’s grown his follower base, maybe sometimes he’s too sick to type replies, but he could at least have sent an emoji once in a while.My Mom, on the other hand, is too much information. She worries the trip to New York might affect my emotional balance. But I also have followers, and doing t...
Ashley
Seriously?Fuck my life and fuck the suburbs.I mean, come on – what the are odds that we’d have just bought a house right to her? Her who, as Matt told me from the second I met him, broke his heart. After four years of high school, four years of college, and three years of grad school, dumped him when she got her dream job in Nashville. I know the story like the back of my hand, but I told myself it didn’t matter. He couldn’t have her, she didn’t even live in the same state, so he’d have to be happy with me. Besides, who wouldn’t be happy with me? Five foot nine, tan in January. Six-year-old bo...
Homemade Marmelade
When somebody knocks on my bedroom door, I wake up but I don't open my eyes. Not yet. I can sense that it is day, there are flashes of light in front of my closed eyelids, and I can hear the birds chirping outside. I always leave my window ajar during the night and I never close the curtains. I want to know what is going on outside. Someone told me just recently that I should better close it because it's cold in November and my lungs wouldn't welcome the icy breeze coming in while I'm asleep. Who was that again? I can't remember. Maybe it was James, my older son. He is not here now. He is at u...