On Being a Woman, After Dark, in New York City — Running Edition

Tonight was the first night I carried with me the pepper spray that M’s boyfriend got for us after a spate of violent robberies in the neighborhood took place this spring.  Continue reading “On Being a Woman, After Dark, in New York City — Running Edition”

The good thing is that since I’m so hollow and achy about my grandma, whenever my ex’s face tumbles through my timeline, what once registered as abject panic and pain now is just a resigned numbness.

2016 sucks and I’d like my money back, please.