There’s a saying that goes something like, “I’m eating sleep for dinner.” I must admit I’ve tried my hand at this cuisine. It’s not my first choice, it’s not a punishment, and it’s not abnegation. I am merely easily distracted in the evening. By nine or ten, I lack the energy to cook, an appetite for cereal, and interest in take-out. Stomach grumbles disturb my rest, and in the morning, I’m emotional. I wouldn’t recommend it. I’d rather recommend a more literal approach. You see, it turns out...

Popeyes Biscuits My grandma and I wore fancy dresses to an empty Popeyes before the wedding. She taught me table manners. I spread cheap napkins on my skirt, sat straight, and sliced the biscuits all proper. She sang me a song that goes, “Elisa, Elisa, if you’re able, keep your elbows off the table.” ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆ Espresso Sonata No. 1 The only wedding I’ve attended was my dad’s. Boston froze over in January and Anna requested a coffee flavored cake. I wore a scratchy bow and...

Artwork by Rachel Genito I stole my mother’s razor the first time I shaved and prayed she wouldn’t notice. It was fourth grade. I had nothing but Youtube and a dream and inexplicable shame about my sudden desire to change. Is this what it means to be a woman? I wondered, as little dots of blood emerged from my thighs. Will I be a woman when I look new? I know how to shave, now. Most of the time, there isn’t any blood. Tonight, I prepare myself for an Everything Shower, my biblical rebirth. An...