“Why did you ever think dead girls could fly?” | Fragments of Unsent Letters

A word, a line, a few sentences, a thought that gave me pause... here are pieces of letters I wrote (and other bits and bobs scribbled on loose leaf paper, mostly at 3 a.m) that for one reason or another fell on the cutting room floor. Well, mostly because a lot of it is depressing …

Continue reading “Why did you ever think dead girls could fly?” | Fragments of Unsent Letters

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I dug up my old writing and published it because I was afraid to.

This is a gem from the early days of Stories for Strangers. I wrote this at 18-years-old during my first few months of college and published it May 5, 2015. I removed the post when my blog began to receive traffic. I felt embarrassed--partly because the prose was so bad but also because the thought …

Continue reading I dug up my old writing and published it because I was afraid to.

My first memories come in flashes.

My first memories come in flashes. I remember the feeling of shag carpet under my feet. I remember my dog's long ears resting on that shag carpet. I remember how warm the sun felt soaked into her black fur. In my first memory it is night. I am in the back seat of a car. …

Continue reading My first memories come in flashes.