Juniper & Thorn

by Ava Reid

I considered, not infrequently, that we would be safest in ashes and in urns.

alexa play last woman on earth by paris paloma. I fucking hate this

“You don’t need to drag around your family history like an old dead dog.”

and I couldn’t save myself from the story that had sprouted up around me like weeds, like ivy, like the smothering greenness of a garden left untended.

hysterically reasonable,

I wanted to give him the gift of hours, to gather them up in my apron like fresh apples and empty them into his lap.