The bell on the bakery door jingles. Erica sticks her head out from the back and her face lights up, “Beckett!” “Hey Erica” I smile, I doubt she will won’t see past it. She wipes her floury hands on her apron, her blonde hair has a white stripe of flour in it. “How’s Quinn?” She […]Read more "chapter 10"
I hate airports and their overpriced ham and cheese sandwiches and their uncomfortable waiting areas and that one family with Hawaiian shirts and too many sunburnt kids, like we get it, you went on vacation, some of us just want to sit here in silence regretting our life choices and wishing Quinn wasn’t on an […]Read more "chapter 9"
I want to paint my walls white. Or maybe my finger nails. I wonder what my life would be like if I just said ‘yes’ to every haphazard idea that sprung into my brain unannounced. I imagine I would have a fish tank, a tiny apartment with no furniture other than a huge green velvet […]Read more "chapter 8"
The ceiling looks like it always did. Except, now I am not a five-year-old with knobby knees and oversized blue eyes.Read more "chapter 6"
I sneak back through the appartement, kicking my shoes off at the door and hanging up my wet coat. “Where did you go?” Quinn asks, he is sitting in the kitchen with his laptop and a cup of coffee. “Couldn’t sleep” “Did you see Julia?” “Yeah, I talked to her and Olivia for a while […]Read more "chapter 5"