Author: Sara Wright

Morning falls all over me like grace, like snow, like pudding. Tea fixes me right up and I dance a little in my fleece and wool, my scarf and hat on inside because we keep our house coldish at 64. Sitting at our granite kitchen...

Good morning. The sun squints behind the luscious white blue-ridged clouds as first frost abounds. I’m sweating after walking the dog while bundled like one of those Michelin-man toddlers. One stray cat hair clings to my...

Morning gives me a hickey. I’m a pound of butter yellow in the warm sunshine. My kitty licks at a puddle of moonlight. I can have my cake and eat it too. I’m warm, finally warm. The bright sunlight mistakes me for gold. I go all...

My heart wants something, anything to be different. Should I give up now? My throat scorches me. I long to lose myself in the world. I cannot bear to turn to the news, because there was an awful shooting, so I turn to the...

The mountains shake my magic fortress and leave me shimmering golden in the snow. I warm from within now. Don’t get me wrong—I still feel the temperature drops and might freeze to death along with the next person, and yet the...