I wrap my hand around the glass, the beading condensation cool under my finger pads. Some of the Tajin rim is now coating the top of my pointer finger. I bring it to my mouth before I think better of it and then, realize my mistake and swipe it on the cloth napkin resting on… Continue reading Freeballing into the afterlife.
Tag: fiction
Big dreams. Dream big.
I started to write something very specific for this week. I was going to write a little more about grief. And then, I was going to write about some of the bat sh*t stuff that’s been going on around these parts. And then, yesterday happened. And it was so magical that I don’t want to… Continue reading Big dreams. Dream big.
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