By 2025, the world had moved on. The pandemic—that first one—was five years in the rearview. We’d mourned. We’d adjusted. We’d come back.
By Annie Edwards 6 months ago in Fiction
Step 1: Spot the Disaster Smile’s fake. They’re oversharing. Time to vanish. Step 2: Glitch Hard Freeze like a bad wifi.
By Annie Edwards 6 months ago in Poets
Step One: Choose the Door Close your eyes. To vanish, first choose the door. Not all doors are made of wood — some are made of porch swings,
“Life can change in the blink of an eye. Don’t lose hope. Just modify.” — Annie Mae Edwards Life truly can take a huge turn—often more quickly than we can even begin to comprehend.
By Annie Edwards 6 months ago in Longevity
How are you?! Oh, I’m good! (If good means numb with a splash of accidental tears.) I’m doing well! (If well means functioning out of spite and caffeine, then yes.)
Who needs enemies when I can’t be my own friend? I’m a lighthouse burning out— guiding others while I descend. I hand out light like borrowed flame,
I’m rinsing a cup, thinking about nothing, really, just the splash of water the water against the sink— when he’s there.
I’m halfway up the stairs and completely blank. I know I came up here for… something. I pause dramatically, like that will jog my memory.
“If you must endure the storm, you must ensure you find the rainbow.” -Annie Mae Edwards Life will bring storms. We can’t schedule them, prevent them, or soften their impact just by wishing them away.
By Annie Edwards 6 months ago in Motivation
Reality: the playground of a morbidly overzealous imagination. Dark art at its (not so) finest. Plot twist. Chaos. Confusion.
By Annie Edwards 7 months ago in Poets
I can’t tell you how much I miss those Saturdays— dragging myself out of bed, grumbling that I’d rather stay home. I’d give anything now
When I open the door and you see me, your tail wags so wildly it looks like you might lift off the bed. You scramble over blankets,
