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February 22, 2017 It wasn’t hot, and it wasn’t cold. The sky wasn’t sunny, but it wasn’t dark. The street was quiet, and a shade of gray surrounded us as we sat on Main Street. Ruben wore a black pea…
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“What’s everyone doing this weekend?” Adam asked. His deep, booming voice broke the soft silence in the small conference room where we crammed in to eat the Friday catered lunch. I teetered on the top of a blue stability ball…
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On the morning of January 1, 2017, I sat on the living room floor, slightly suffocating from the previous night’s long-sleeve sequin dress that required too much energy to remove. My phone laid face-down to hide the glow of incoming…
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“The reason for this interview is because, as you might know, last year was a little rough for me,” I explained to Ruben who sat across from me in a black winter coat. A thin layer of dew covered the…
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“Did you get them? I’m scared,” Andrew asked, peering over the top of the cement walls. “Just stay up there a few more seconds!” I yelled back. In an anxious attempt to beat the incoming clouds and capture a few…
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Drinking mimosas to face your drunk texts is like eating a donut because you feel fat. I realize this. But it’s 100% necessary to survive today’s hangover anxiety and survey the damage. As I glance around the coffee shop and spot…
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