My friend, famous and beautiful, one of those fantastic ladies that look like they made life their b*tch (ridiculous expression, yet, in her case, so appropriate), has all of the secrets to glamour and charisma, and knew exactly what I needed when I asked her what I should get for my husband’s birthday.
“This.” She said as I received a photo of herself in her lingerie, so sexy that I gasped.
This post is for members only, you can subscribe here! To sign back in, click here 🙂
It was a few years ago. We sat around the tiny coffee table, under the platanes, the plane trees that line every city square in France and whose seeds, come spring, have you scratching anytime there is a gust of wind.
The air was crisp, but she wanted to sit outside. We ordered coffees and sat quietly, watching her children play in an improvised playground right in front of us.
This post is for members only, you can subscribe here! To sign back in, click here 🙂
As I am walking down the aisle at the arm of my father, all I can feel is a sense of intense panic and eternity—beyond emotion. Inside, it’s blank.
The bagpipes stop. Everyone cheers, and I see the man I am about to marry, his face tense and warm. I turn around to see my brother sobbing, my dog freaking out, and the expressionless face of my mother, who, I can feel it, is beyond shock herself.
This post is for members only, you can subscribe here! To sign back in, click here 🙂
