A second grader came home from school and said to her mother, “Mom, guess what? “We learned how to make babies today.”
The mother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool.
“That’s interesting,” she said. “How do you make babies?”
“It’s simple,” replied the girl. “You just change ‘y’ to ‘i’ and add ‘es’.”
The girl was talking about spelling rules—how to make words plural (like “baby” to “babies”) by changing “y” to “i” and adding “es.”
It starts like a whisper of fire. A small hand reaches back, searching for relief, only to find more burning, more sting, more shame. Nights fracture into…
The night refused to end. Morning arrived stolen, wrong, a gray bruise over a city that no longer knew its own name. People stood in doorways and…
It started as a quiet rupture. A single word slipped into the margins of the internet and everything tilted. Some scrolled past, untouched. Others froze, pulse hammering,…
He thought the show might die that night. Contracts hung by threads, headlines felt pre-written, and every ringtone sounded like the end. The missing judge was a…
The first touch didn’t sting. It rattled her ribs instead, like someone had knocked on a locked room she’d forgotten she was inside. Years of flinching at…
Most people think dates are candy. They’re not. They’re a quiet rebellion against everything that’s been wrecking your energy, your digestion, your sleep. One small, soft bite…