My Favorite Terrible Thing

by Madeleine Henry

she’s learned how to make a living out of being forgettable. Out of being white space. Out of being everyone and no one.

I understand this world too well to be an outsider, but I’ll never be a true insider either. I guess that puts me on the fence, somewhere with a good view.

“Sometimes, it felt like she wasn’t even writing. She was building. It wasn’t creative. It was architectural. And if she didn’t put those 120,000 words in order, the structure would collapse. Kill everyone inside.”

everyone has someone, an all-forgiving and permanent home for their soul.