The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion: Vol. 3

by Beth Brower

And as impertinence comes in limited supply (one has only so much in any given day), it’s unwise to spend it all before breakfast.

“It’s messier than we ever imagined it to be as children,” he said. “What?” “Life.”

And I hadn’t realised until that moment how much I’ve missed that feeling, of someone inside your four walls watching out for you. The feeling that home isn’t just a place, but also people. I’ve forgotten it could be.

“He’s so…and you’re, well…it’s only…so I thought…ooch. Ya ken?” No, I did not ken, Agnes.

How wonderful a thing to find one’s friends.