Yesterday morning, I got the email I had been waiting for since last year: the list of novels that made it past the first round of Amazon’s Breakthrough Novel Award contest had been put up.
I looked in his eyes as we sat in his car after the obligatory welcome home ceremony and dinner. I saw something I had never seen before in another human: nothing.
Do you like wearing shorts? That was a rhetorical question.
Treat me like I’m me, not like I’m going to shatter at every moment. That helps more than you could ever know.
I am in no rush to have children of my own, but when I do I can only hope I have a daughter who can grow into a friend.