From the meager collection in my closet, a single necktie stands out. A father’s day gift from just a few weeks ago, gaudy and loud. “#1 Dad” it exclaims, bold print glittering against a purple backdrop. Ella had been so excited to give it to me. My fingers run…
I want to be a writer because, in all seriousness, it makes me better. It grants me empathy, understanding, encourages me to seek a deeper view of the world. When I write, dimensions bloom. Life, instead of a straight black line, becomes a full spectrum of color and light. Fulfilling…
“Sera, what a nice surprise,” Gertrude greets me warmly as I take a seat at the bar. I unwrap the scarf from around my neck and remove my gloves while she mixes up my usual. “Always nice to see you, Trudy.” I take a long swig of the drink she…