Last Sunday, I did indeed fall down about six concrete steps. Outside of a funeral home, of all places. According to my family, I was lucky to come out of it with just scrapes and bruises by the way I tumbled. I only remember bits and pieces, like how I was so sure I'd be able to catch the railing somehow, or regain control by getting my foot on another stair. Neither of those things happened.
Welcome to Dear Diary, a series where I talk about the little things going on in my life that don’t necessarily warrant their own individual posts. Please, feel free to do the same in the comments! So… What’s new?
A young adult fiction anthology of 15 stories featuring contemporary, historical, and futuristic stories. Read all about witchy heroines who are diverse in race, class, sexuality, religion, geography, and era.
If you follow me on Instagram, you might've seen that I did some spring cleaning last weekend. Bulk week started on Easter, so my dad and I agreed it was the perfect time to get rid of the furniture I've been staring at 24/7 for over a decade of my life. Can you tell I was all but begging for a change of scenery?