Follow me and – if compelled – count every word. This is the start of a flash-fiction journey. Stick around for the ride and fuhgeddabout everything else.
Fast food hits different at 33. It wasn’t too long ago that a trip to Wendy’s for a “Fresh But Never Frozen” 99 cent cheeseburger (yes, those existed) with a side of medium fries and a surprisingly oversized soda was the text-book hangover cure. Now, closer to middled-aged than I was in college, I feel hungover after eating anything remotely close to that.
The tiny clothes stacked neatly in your closet remind me of how quickly you've grown and how hard it is for me to accept it. If the size difference of your shirts aren’t proof enough, the No. 2 pencil marks on the inside of your closet is validation. The baby socks once fit baby feet.... Continue Reading →
It was my college graduation and one of the many falling outs I had with my grandfather turned out to be the last. He died five years later in 2017. Poof. He was gone. Five years in silence lead to forever. It was so long ago I’m not entirely sure why I felt betrayed and... Continue Reading →
Kristina M. Nasuti