Ten Hopeful 20-Word Stories.

I’d seen the bottom of the bottle many times. This time, there was a message — “Do better” — So I did.

A year spent longing for you from a distance, eyes meeting through crowds. Fifty more with your hand in mine.

So many firsts, not all of them spent with you; the ones that matter, the ones that I remember, were.

I never learnt how to swim — ”Just not in your nature” Daddy shrugged. Today I lept; I dove; I floated.

We were roommates to everyone around us. “Just friends” — Aunt May, bible in hand. To each other, we were soulmates.

Just. Just a woman. Just a job. Just a girlfriend. Just a boyfriend. Just is an ugly word. Fuck ‘just’.

“What would you like to be in 5 years?” the college application read. Alive. Warm. Happy. Kind. A good person.

Holding onto hatred is very much like drinking until you’re sick, then drinking some more. Let someone catch the drips.

The life support system flickered, then stillness. The tears fell freely.

Then, miraculously, you took a breath all by yourself.

Our bodies take 7 years to regrow every cell. I can't wait until my body is one you’ve never touched.

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