Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
I was never a “convertible person.” Hot in the summer. Cold in the winter. Buggy. Windy. Nope. Not for me. But … I had to admit, I looked good. Red was definitely my color. A horn blasted and I shifted my gaze to the truck also reflected in the store window. Resisting the urge to… Continue reading Red is Definitely My Color
All around me, conversations swell. I understand little but instead of seeming cacophonous, the words soothe. They distract from my reality until the prosecco dulls the pain. Then the old woman who runs the osteria stands over me, “Ciligie”? Seeing the cherries shakes me from my stupor. She continues, “Devi rimanere per La Notte… Continue reading Un’altra notte rossa
Tina Stewart Brakebill 