Creative Nonfiction: I Literally Pooped My Pants Today by Grace Daly
I won’t sugar-coat it; being disabled is not super fun.
I won’t sugar-coat it; being disabled is not super fun.
Just then, I felt like I had become a character in one of your stories. It felt awesome too.
This is not a world meant for dizzy young women in pain, and it is especially not a world meant for women with walking sticks.
We have reopened for creative nonfiction submissions!
How hard could this be? I’ve buried a child.
My dad can only come to me in my dreams now, but when he does, he comes in versions.
Maybe I wanted things in my life to be more permanent, I don’t know.
Grandma taught me to believe in creatures she called “Tiny People” who lived behind the bookshelf and protected both us and the bookshelf’s authors from evil hands and minds.
Have you ever loved someone because you’ve backmasked the shit out of them?
The times people asked why I didn’t drink.