How to tell a tale about a kid who steps on snails? And what does that have to do with happy endings? A writer realizes that she can't lie at Halloween, even if the reader wants her to. . .

When "prettier" usurped "clean clothes and washed face," I set out on an endless roller coaster ride, “longing to belong to the tribe —through physical beauty”

Hungry for health, I was heading into the desert with supplies. But would I have enough?

A cynic remembers to look up, and the branches became her fingers.