I'm A Librarian, Not An Oracle.

In Them, She Saw The Sham Of Her Life Laid Out Like A Book, The Foolish Belief That She, That Anyone, Could Escape The Consequences Of This World, Could Flee From Death. That Was The Deceit. The True Serpent In The Garden.

I Am Starting A Collection Of Only Right-hand Gloves. It’s Ever So Bourgeois To Have Two.

We're Still Expected To Color Within The Lines Of Accepted Femininity, And Women Who Step Out Of Those Lines Are Usually Attacked, Whether Verbally Or Physically.

Perhaps This Is How Girls Fall -- Not In Some Crime Of Enchantment At The Hands Of A Wicked Ne'er-do-well, A Grand Before And After In Which They Are Innocent Victims Who Have No Say In The Matter. Perhaps They Simply Are Kissed And Want To Kiss Back. Perhaps They Even Kiss First. And Why Should They Not?

I Told Myself It Was The Snow—she Couldn’t Possibly Get To Philadelphia On The Roads. I Told Myself A Hundred Lies. Children Do That. It’s Amazing The Sorts Of Things You’ll Make Yourself Believe.