He will always be home. The smell of that apple-scented candle lingering through the vents of the house Shoes with muddy tongues lined up by the front door Red, hot stove burners alive on Sunday mornings Scratches and greasy fingerprints cluttering the worn porcelain bowls Battered pillows covered in drool and old make up Wrinkled … Continue reading Residency.


In a Storage Closet in Paris.

He couldn’t see her in the tiny storage closet, but he could smell her. She smelled like home. Not his home, which reeked of greasy pizza boxes and inside-out underwear, but home. She smelled of sweet pea body wash and the mint chocolate-chip gum she always kept a pack of in her purse. That was … Continue reading In a Storage Closet in Paris.


I've finally found the definition of perfect, it's you! Every little piece of you is perfect. Your dreamy brown eyes your preppy style your intelligence your generosity your shiny smile your chivalry your soothing voice... The list is never-ending. I started to believe no one was capable of being flawless, then I met you and … Continue reading D.C.