It was late. Her maroon kitten heels pounded against the sidewalk, her stride tested the limits of her pencil skirt. There was no time to dawdle. She had to get to the oddities shop before it closed. She needed another tarot reading.

Chasing nostalgia is pure folly; hanging on to the past and a history that has expired is just time wasted.

We saw what the world offered; we weren't interested then, and I can tell you, baby girl—we aren't interested now.

I felt like I’d duped myself; sold my lake cottage to live in a camper for an undetermined amount of time.

The bottle had not kept her company like she'd told herself it had, and there were plenty of times she'd convinced herself it did just that.