Rain droplets came down from the sky at a rate that Minerva didn't think was possible. Her mother always said it was the tears of nymphs' spirits, who sat in the clouds and wept endlessly for the lives they never got to live out peacefully. It was said that they had met their deaths because of deceiving touch of man. Minerva believed it. 

The man, her father, still stood outside their door. She tried to keep her gaze upon her...

There are things in this world that I will, no doubt, even when I'm a wrinkly California raising of an old lady, will be awful at. Like double knotting my shoes. Like, I'm gonna forget, so if you see my laces flopping around like those inflatable guys you see in the front of car dealerships, tell me. I'm gonna be embarrassed, sure, but I'm not gonna faceplant into the pavement, which for some people, would be an absolute joy to...

my childhood was made of starbursts that emblazoned my tongue with blurs of red-yellow-pink-orange. they deposited their souls in my bloodstream, and without fail i would fly, fly so high, that the clouds would shy away in fear. 

they knew i was a spinning record, peeled free of its vinyl, and set free to dig in peoples' ears, like the way a dog does with dewy morning earth when it manages to sneak outside before its owner has had their...

ROSI WILLARD and her best friend (who puts up with Rosi's shit(take mushrooms) E are walking down a trail that runs through their town, trying to get to CVS on time, before it closes. The two of them have literally no brain cells at all, in the slightest, and are using their wobbly baby legs to try and get down this mile-and-a half long trail before dark. 

E: You know, I don't know why you talked me into...

if i die young, i will die knowing that at least four percent of the people i met will have vehemently despised me. 
the ones who love me, the other thirty-five percent, if we're being real, will know i won't want an open casket, but rather to be wrapped in the finest satin and laid on a bed of roses. the other sixty one percent - those people are obsolete. they will shrivel, crinkle and burn to their very edges...

Honestly, seeing your teacher in public is sort of like shooting a wildlife documentary. 

Observe.* 

*{Teachers' names have been changed for privacy reasons, obviously.}

THE CAMERA PANS TO THE GREEN JUICE ISLE AT A LOCAL WHOLE FOODS MARKET. ROSI WILLARD goes walking through the isle with her crew, the FlavorTown crew, as they named themselves. 

Rosi: {her nose curls in distaste} Green is an evil, evil, color. 

Friend #1: Aren't you Irish? Aren't you guys all about you know, clovers,...

enter through the overarching doorway made of oak from the 
stumps that litter the front lawn, so meticulously cared for
by the groundskeeper whose back is starting to curve from 
old age.
i don't think he has health insurance. 
god better actually bless his soul or something. 

it's really weird to sit next to your neighbors as
you shuffle through the masses of canada goose 
jackets and ugg boots. 
sometimes you'll share a smile with 
the single mom who teaches...