There is so much to write about. The doves sitting on the power line. The mask my nana sewed for me, the same fabric she used to buy to make tiny dresses for my American Girl doll. Our 36-day streak with the New York Times crossword. Riding bikes in the wind. The new leaf on my monstera plant, light green and shaped like a heart. How, without fail, my grief and my joy grasp hands and pull me into the next day.
175 pages of dreams
175 pages of dreams
175 pages of dreams
There is so much to write about. The doves sitting on the power line. The mask my nana sewed for me, the same fabric she used to buy to make tiny dresses for my American Girl doll. Our 36-day streak with the New York Times crossword. Riding bikes in the wind. The new leaf on my monstera plant, light green and shaped like a heart. How, without fail, my grief and my joy grasp hands and pull me into the next day.