Sticky Notes

I'll gather them all in a crumpled pile and watch as they writhe and convulse beneath the flame. Suddenly, they are gone. It's tragic that I can't do the same.

Mary Flyer

I loved flying kites when I was little... The way they bobbed and swayed upon invisible, tumultuous waves. The way they could be seen by friends, near and far, both close friends and formerly unknown folks, and silently call a gathering that would add to the fleet of flying vessels across the town. My mother... Continue Reading →

Letters to Old Friends

I tend to hold onto memories like sentimental letters from long-lost friends. In a way, that's exactly what they are, but some letters are meant to collect dust for a very long time before they're read so as not to be misconstrued, and some are meant to be burned. I can remember when I was... Continue Reading →

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