Some betrayals don’t scream.They watch. This letter was written for Juliet, who didn’t just steal something sacred—she waited.Waited for the tears.Waited for the panic.Waited for the exact moment hope would rise, so she could see the light leave someone’s face when it didn’t last. That’s not petty.That’s not theft.That’s something worse. Elizabeth wrote this after… Continue reading Hope Was the Cruelest Part
I wasn’t planning to leave anything that day. I wasn’t in the mood to ruin anyone’s afternoon. But sometimes the past calls your bluff, and sometimes it dares you to answer back with a typewriter and a grudge. So I did. I picked the book carefully. Breaking Dawn. The kind of love story that glorifies… Continue reading The Human Toenail
Angela brought a handwritten letter.Marlene responded with a typewriter. The topic?A cherry pie, a stolen chair, and the unholy audacity of calling hydrangeas hibiscus. Angela believes in community values. Marlene believes in microwave desserts and vengeance. This is no longer about Saturday’s gathering.This is about order. And flavor. And respect. Read them both. Then ask… Continue reading Casserole Politics
Little Ghost Post 