fiction
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A Letter Written While the Snow Fell
Dear friend, The snow started sometime this morning, though I didn’t notice it right away. I was in the kitchen, the house unusually still, when the light outside softened in that particular way it only does before everything turns white.… Continue reading
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It’s Here: The Wintering Companion
I’ve been carrying this book quietly for a while. Not in a “big announcement” way, but in the way you carry something fragile and meaningful…tucking it into spare moments, returning to it slowly, letting it take the shape it wanted… Continue reading
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The Winter I Stopped Rushing
It started the way winter things usually do, quietly, without much intention. A few pages here. A note scribbled down because I didn’t want to forget it. Lists that weren’t really lists. Thoughts that felt too small to matter, but… Continue reading
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The Quiet Magic of Ordinary Places
The diner was already warm when we stepped inside, the kind of warmth that feels earned in December. A little Christmas tree sat beside our booth, its lights blinking softly against the cold outside. It wasn’t decorated with any big… Continue reading
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The Soundtrack of Today’s Life
Some days come with their own quiet soundtrack, even if no actual music is playing. Today felt like that, a whole little symphony made of ordinary things. The morning began with the soft shuffle of my slippers on the kitchen… Continue reading
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My Favorite Words and Why I Love Them
Some words just feel good. Not because they’re fancy or impressive, but because of how they sound, or how they make me feel when I say them. I collect them like little treasures, tucked into poems, scribbled in the margins… Continue reading
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The Books I’m Reading This May (and Why I Chose Them)
There’s something about May that makes me want to slow down, to sit outside with a cup of tea, plant something new, and get lost in a book that feels like a deep exhale. This month, I’m leaning into stories… Continue reading
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A Sunday Soundtrack: Soft songs for slow hours and gentle light
Some Sundays are for catching up. Others are for catching your breath. This one is the latter. Lately, I’ve been leaning into the kind of Sundays that don’t ask much. The kind where you sip your tea slowly, let the… Continue reading
Autumn Rosewood 