There’s something disturbing about recalling a warm memory and feeling utterly cold.

How do you keep safe when your whole day is as wide and empty as the sky?

I'm a true-crime addict. It's not something I'm particularly proud of, but I can't stop.

What a generous thing that is, I realize, for a husband to try to make his wife laugh.

I had no sympathy for drama queens.

A town so suffocating and small, you tripped over people you hated every day. People who knew things about you. It's the kind of place that leaves a mark.

I'd come to believe there was no food more depressing than Danish, a pastry that seemed stale upon arrival