I found myself on a plane a couple of weeks ago, involuntary sobbing. Not the cute, feminine type, but the uncontrollable, can’t-catch-my-breath and might-seriously-drown-in-my-own-tears type of crying. I’d like to blame the attitude, but the truth is, Cheryl Strayed’s Tiny Beautiful Things had me feeling emotions I didn’t even know I possessed — about …
© 2024 Alexandra D'amour
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