“Thirty days with me.” I slid the pad of my thumb down her cheekbone. “In my home. In my bed. Thirty days… — Aria Cole Copy Share Image
“What were you asleep? Helen would say as I opened the door. "I've been up since five." In her hand would be… — David Sedaris Copy Share Image
Aching familiar in a way that made me wish I was still eight. Eight was before death or divorce or heartbreak. Eight… — Jenny Han Copy Share Image
