fiction

The line that ended at her middle finger meant she was selfish in love. It meant she would never have real love. It meant love was broken.

My little sister would name every dead animal that we came across. This is not how to grieve. This is not how to behave with animals.

We had moved in together fast. I brought a silver tea service and a Persian rug, student loans and a pair of ragged cats. We settled in like it was forever.