( Email to Lettie. )

Hey ( Read more... )

Private.Why won't it go away and leave me alone. Why. Why is it staying in my body like some glorious disease, sick on sin, but I don't know if it was a sin because it curled around inside me like good coffee and cinnamon buns and when I think of it, it feels like a faraway Christmastime. A ripple inside me that makes my spine feel cold, then warm ( Read more... )

( Email to Emilio. )

To: esalgari@euphemewebmail.net ( Read more... )

(Private)On the way out of town, past the woods, there's a little bed and breakfast in a Victorian house. I remember that it's covered in roses in the summertime, but it's not summertime now and the vines are just a tangle on the walls of the house. It's still sweet and pretty with its yellow paint and white trim, and the wraparound porch is ( Read more... )

All right, if you don't have your articles in for the paper, get them in. It's going into its first edition a week from Monday, and I'll be tracking you all down and opening your brains ( Read more... )

Having a sick boyfriend has got to be the most guilt-inducing activity anyone ever created. I feel awful leaving him for even ten seconds, even if he's been chipper as can be about it all (while turning his stomach inside out inside his mouth, it's acrobatic and disgusting, you really ought to stop by and see it-- twenty bucks a pop for the ( Read more... )

( Email to Larissa. )

( Email to Larissa. )