Stories written in ink, rooted in the earth.

connection

  • A Child’s Holiday

    Christmas morning at Grandma and Grandpa’s house feels like waking up inside a secret wonderland. The house is quiet but full at the same time, like it’s holding its breath. I wake up early anyway. The air smells different here—like coffee, cinnamon, and something already cooking even though it’s still morning. The living room glows Read more

  • The Truth About Sex

    No one told me the truth about sex before I had a lot of sex… Not the kind of truth that slides into schoolbooks or locker room talk or gets whispered at sleepovers under half-drunk breath. I had to live it. I had to wake up in someone’s bed with my soul scraped thin and Read more