Maria Belen Francese
Stories (4)
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Today my plants glow with a different light.
This morning, I woke up too early, as usual, feeling the familiar heaviness of sleep that hadn’t quite caught up with me. The night had slipped away in a quiet exchange of texts, the kind that keeps you up without regret. The warmth of my blanket was tempting, but duty called. I dragged myself to work, the weight of routine settling in like a dull hum in the background. The ticking clock blurred with the sound of the espresso machine and the faint chatter of customers. My mind wandered, thoughts slipping between half-finished memories and the monotony of the day.
By Maria Belen Francese12 months ago in Humans
16 Hours
The Rule Breaker I've been on dating apps for about a year now. After my first year of being single—and, let's face it, depressed—I figured, why not give them a try? What's the worst that could happen? I quickly realized, though, that I'm not going to find what I'm looking for there. Dating apps just don't seem to work for me. Still, here I am, scrolling away. I guess I have my fun moments.
By Maria Belen Franceseabout a year ago in Humans
The Question Beneath the Sunset
Would it be possible? I don’t know. I can’t know. It’s been three years since my breakup—no, not a divorce, not a marriage, just a breakup. But does that make it any less significant? It doesn’t feel that way. It still feels heavy, like the shadow of the life I thought I had figured out.
By Maria Belen Franceseabout a year ago in Confessions
Through the Darkness, We Write
I’m overwhelmed by a strange feeling, an emotion I can't quite describe, one that makes the world fade away. It's as if, suddenly, everything else stops mattering and only one thing occupies my mind: writing. Why do I feel this? What is it that drives me? I HAVE TO GET IT OUT. The words begin to flow, without me calling them. My hands start moving, and without thinking too much, I begin to write.
By Maria Belen Franceseabout a year ago in Confessions
