॰ ⋄ ♢ PART ONE - THE BOY ♢ ⋄ ॰ My mom used to tell me stories about myself. I remember the old house, a cookie-cutter duplex a mile from town. For her, it was a holding cell, an in-between place before we relocated. But for me, a three and a half foot tall five year old, it was paradise. We had a front yard with room for an immense black cottonwood, a decent swingset, and a copse of spruce, all tied together with a gravel drive that snaked around to the mailboxes. The real

KATHY - I was a single mother of two and on my 36th rejection letter sitting at the desk at my receptionist’s job back then. You could...

I worry that the first offer of my potential reincarnation would be a bluejay. It’s my old life’s namesake after all. A screaming, ...

My soul is a patchwork quilt My heart is a library There are times my closet is full Of new projects to sew on or build shelves for...

My hair was never up in eleventh grade because when I parted it into ponytails and attended a youth group dinner for a trip I had been...

I was never meant for casual I was never meant For small talk And hookups And saccharine smiles And “hiding” I was never meant for...

I would pull the laces of my worn sneakers on the couch down really really fast. I’d watch the dust and fibers pull and float away, like...

Do you remember the scene we rewound just to laugh so hard we cried? Do you remember the scrolls, the maps made to fill a still...

CAST - Lizzy Fletcher - 22 - An angel, guiding her friend through purgatory. She’s slightly more responsible, put together, and focused,...