The Storytellers
It was a long signal and we were silent for a beat. Just enough time for my gaze to drift for no reason at all, over the door down to the blacktop where a female praying mantis lay crushed and paved over.
It was a long signal and we were silent for a beat. Just enough time for my gaze to drift for no reason at all, over the door down to the blacktop where a female praying mantis lay crushed and paved over.
body dysmorphia isn’t about what you look like. It’s about what you think you look like.