priority mail

4 Jan


I have a friend who uses her typewriter to type beautiful prose about things and people she knows. She’s very brave about it all–writing and living on stickers and in coffee shops for anyone to see. I admire that. For the most part, I kept to myself in school. Thought maybe I didn’t, but probably cared I wasn’t less invisible. In the English class where we met, my notes on Heart of Darkness were mainly spiritless pen drawings of bodies and faces tangled together then scribbled out for imperfections. She noticed them, found beauty where I never could, and went out into the world to do the same for even more.


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