A WOMAN’S POEM: He didn’t like the casserole, and he didn’t like my cake. He said my biscuits were too hard, not like his mother used to make.
I didn’t make the coffee right, he didn’t like my stew. I didn’t fold his pants, the way his mother used to fold his pants, the way his mother used to do. I pondered for an answer, I was looking for a clue. Then I turned around and smacked the shit out of him, like his mother used to do.
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When my ex-husband and I parted ways, I thought I had control over my future. I decided to embrace single motherhood through sperm donation, believing I had…
Just 20 minutes ago in Los Angeles, legendary television host Pat Sajak was officially confirmed in a move that is already making headlines. Best known for his…
son sitting upright on his bed, talking softly into the darkness as if someone were listening. My heart raced for a moment, but when I stepped closer,…
The birthmark I used to kiss goodnight when she was two years old, before her mother took her and vanished. “License and registration,” she said, professional and…
BREAKING NEWS: The National Hurricane Center (NHC) has begun posting advisories on Potential Tropical Cyclone Nine, which will likely become Tropical Storm Helene later today or tonight….