Honeybee Meadows

Chapter Eleven Dear Self, Your mother’s favorite story to tell about your birth was the one where she asked the nurses to give yo...

Chapter Nine “I’m going to Seattle tomorrow.” Dad keeps looking at his spaghetti when he says this, like he’s embarrassed to admit it or...

Chapter Eight Edward lets me keep the knife. It’s stupid, bringing it home, but there’s a riptide of morbid curiosity barreling t...

Chapter Seven I’m home alone when the doorbell rings. The panic is immediate. There are too many exits. Too many entrances. To...

CHAPTER SIX Dear Self, You wake up in Mrs. Sherman’s flower bed with your mouth tasting of metal. You are cold, and shiverin...