Four Weekends and a Funeral

by Ellie Palmer

His shirtsleeves are pushed up to his elbows, doing that sexy-magic thing Henleys do to male bodies by pulling tight through the chest and arms to make shoulders look their brawniest and forearms look their forearmiest.

How does a live, laugh, love sign rank? Is that a need or a want?” “Definitely a need. Could you imagine walking into a home that didn’t give you explicit permission to live, laugh, and love all at once?”

But you know what was so much more terrifying than owing a debt to the universe? Realizing it’s all random. And that’s the truth, there’s nothing to pay or prove. We’re all just living.”

“How am I supposed to know if any time is a good time for anything? Does anyone? You just have to make the choices that feel true to the life you want and hope like hell it will all work out.”