Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
Three days. It had been three days since they delivered the box. Technically, three days, four hours, and 37 minutes. But who’s counting. She knew he was there. The gate squeaked. It had been over two weeks since he’d left. Technically 15 days, three hours, and 22 minutes. But who’s counting. Or 14 days, 21… Continue reading Who’s Counting
“That’s effing awesome!” “Language.” “But ma. The diner car is up in the air.” Resisting the temptation to go easy, she suppressed a smile. “Don’t ‘but ma’ me young man. I’m tired and you know your dad doesn’t have any patience for your stories. Get your book. It’s math time.” “But ma!” “No buts!… Continue reading Day Three
Tina Stewart Brakebill 