I turned to the clarinets. They were a resourceful lot.
You’ve gone far away to a place with no horses and very little grass, and you’re studying how to write a story with a happy ending. If you can write that ending for yourself, maybe you can come back.
Dad" I pleaded, "this is so [cuss word you never, ever say in front of your mother] ridiculous.
Why are you pretending to write, when I already know you're just doing that to intimidate me?
I love you.”I stared stupidly at him. Was he joking again, reciting another line from my story? I didn’t remember writing this.He leaned in and kissed me. I didn’t respond for a few seconds. My mind l...
It's one thing to think you're worthless, and quite another for somebody else to tell you that you are.
