Being Grown Up

It was the first civilized conversation they’d had in years. The last few attempts had been disastrous, with her fingers screaming with rage at his every word. This time, she felt nothing. “How are you?” He replied with another “How are you?” She laughed out loud and typed another formal sentence or two, enquiring about…Read more Being Grown Up


Writer’s Block

She felt the pen cutting into her fingers. It had been 45 minutes. No, maybe an hour. The page was an ugly shade of white. There was dull blue ink on her finger tip, but not a speck of it on the paper. The annoying clock made a noise to signal the new hour, as…Read more Writer’s Block