I write three sentences only to discover they're the wrong pattern, and that's when I realize how much I've lost.
I pause at the gym half-dressed in the locker room, taking out an earbud and listening to the woman compliment my pregnant body, feeling like I can't adequately express how much her words mean.
I stop mid-run at the playground, my eyes scanning the empty fixtures incredulously, along with the yellow caution tape and signs of closure and surveillance parked in the lot.
For dinner my friends give something cheesy and wonderful to me -- a Hawaiian pizza: I eat over the box, and I don't ever want to finish.
Photos via Unsplash and me: (Slide) Markus Spiske, (Writing) Hannah Olinger, (Hawaiian Pizza) Miguel Andrade, (Me) Me.
Hi, I'm Sarah!
I write feminist YA stories full of broken romances and redeeming friendships. I'm sucker for love triangles, break-ups, animal puns, and ice cream sundaes. All of my first drafts are handwritten. I live in my hometown of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania with my punk husband, Chris, and our son.