My dad rented out part of a resort. Loot bags, each waiting to be taken home by a party guest, stand neatly arranged in rows, like soldiers on a training field.
All tagged smoking
My dad rented out part of a resort. Loot bags, each waiting to be taken home by a party guest, stand neatly arranged in rows, like soldiers on a training field.
It looked like a police lineup for little kids. Three sisters, ages nine, five and almost four, and one pacing adult.
The afterlife of our relationship is sprinkled with ash. I’ve started smoking to keep my lips busy.
We reached the roof of the school unnoticed. Maggie was an expert at planning adventures and I didn't want to show her that I wasn't as fearless as she was.
The smoke grew like a tree, unfurling its thin curls in the unquiet night. It smelled like blueberry syrup, thick and cloying.