b.read.crumbs : Storytelling

Once upon a time and not so very long ago, I outlined an August in which I’d make final revisions on three essays, but my story took a turn I never anticipated.

Backstory: Instead of writing and hiking at my leisure, I spent the month living in a chair-bed (it wasn’t very good at being either of those things) in my husband’s hospital room. Every two or three days, spelled by my children, I’d go home to wash clothes, water the plants, and sleep through the night. Repeat for three weeks, th...