Müllerian Mimicry
Three-fourths of this feeling comes from starting over with Crystal again. An unusual fourth comes from the house’s wide windows.
Three-fourths of this feeling comes from starting over with Crystal again. An unusual fourth comes from the house’s wide windows.
Given her dearth of friends, Sadie did worry that her neighbors, mistaking her for a bird, would shoot her down.
What did it take to divert poisonous attention? Beauty. Sinful amounts of it.
Kay had promised Louis that she would stop getting so angry. She agreed with him that it didn’t do any good. But what did?
“We owe it to our children. We have to be able to do hard things. Whatever it takes.”
Social Security sends us checks every month to say sorry about our mom. A thousand sorries for me and a thousand sorries for Vivian, and we accept them all.
They used to launch shuttles from the town, but that was all over now. Space had become derivative and unimportant and old.
The blisters came two summers ago, after college. The biopsy came back inconclusive, so every month I go back to the office for a check-up.
We nibble at the sandwiches and make stilted conversation with one another’s better halves. The managers loom in the corner.
If she could speak, she would tell me she’s glad my reckoning has arrived.
We’re each of us on our third glass of rosé when the Bachelorette sends home the Last Man of Color.
With the baby came trouble, but not any of the kind the mommy blogs warned Ana about.
She was frightened by the lackadaisical way he displayed his violence, the way America trained her students.
Maybe it’s strange that I haven’t acknowledged my ex, but how can I after the nails, which are either about me or not about me, and which is worse?
He’d seen himself as something different then: greater than he was, more worthy of acclaim.
Talking about it would make me sound mentally ill, and sounding mentally ill—in this economy?—feels dangerous.
The house erupted faster than it should, but that’s the trouble with dancing on somebody else’s hurt.
My mother’s favorite spring has water that reflects her beauty more honestly than a front-facing camera.