Letting them know while they are here.
Grieving through a case of the "fuck-its".
Continued from - "I Am a Writer" And so I was in Europe, my first time, arrived by epic adventure across an ocean, and all I could do was huddle against the damp Irish chill in my father’s down sleeping bag, glued to Caribbean weather reports on the screen of my tiny iPad. I couldn’t … Continue reading Dwelling in Ireland
I want to spend all day in the water. It soothes me. I feel pure, young, innocent. I think of you. I ask you to send me messages through the waves, answers. Can you hear me? Send me a wave. The water is clear, I see straight down to the dust-colored sand. The waves are … Continue reading Hillary