Happiness. It's relative.
Charlotte’s Web. But only because my fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Pendleton, read a few pages every day. It was luxurious, sitting at my wooden desk, still sweaty from recess where I’d been running around with my friend pretending to be horses (this went on for… Continue Reading “When the Horse Comes in from Recess”
High school was a vast sea of uncomfortableness. Every day a variation on that theme. Always a part of me off, the limits of my wardrobe a burden I felt every ten days as I waited to wear the teal skirt and sweater set… Continue Reading “The Incredible Beauty of Typing Class”
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