In the space between this, dead and still, I am aware of time and breath and the scent of the sweetened coffee in my hands which I will never drink.
Coffee: a poem
Sunset on Another Time
She was perfect. In my mind, then as much as now, we fit together in every conceivable way. She was a funny, kindhearted, blackbelt, dirty blonde who loved Weird Al, the Beatles, and goofy teeshirts. We were inseparable. We spent hours on the phone, making each other laugh so hard that we couldn't breathe. I... Continue Reading →
My Library
Everyone has a favorite place, a spot they go when they need to remember how to breathe. Mine was two miles away. It smelled like dust and paper. The silence inside echoed with the occasional interruptions of crinkled pages or fingers tapping on a keyboard. It was my library. But it’s not mine anymore. My... Continue Reading →
Rachel Svendsen 