Pamela Jeong
LightNews LightNews
banner
pamelaelaela.bsky.social
Pamela Jeong
@pamelaelaela.bsky.social
760 followers 540 following 5.6K posts
Lifelong writer, aspiring author, mom of two.

Bibliophile, cinephile, serial hobbyist. I'm talking graveyards of crochet needles & ukuleles.
Posts Replies Media Videos
Pinned
pamelaelaela.bsky.social
Pamela Jeong @pamelaelaela.bsky.social · Dec 20
I have something exciting to share…

My very first commissioned art from the one & only @nushdeco.bsky.social!

What have we here 👀 Lynx? Goshawk? Cyrus & Danbi on one of their walks? I want a happy ending for these two, but *sigh* I dunno… 😓

Nush, TYSM—your beautiful art has brought me such joy 🥹❤️
A gorgeously illustrated forest, golden afternoon light filtering in through moss-covered spruces. A handsome young man with dark, curly hair wearing a black t-shirt and jeans with a book sticking out of his pocket walks together with a cute young woman in a pink sweater and fitted pants. They’re captured mid-conversation, glancing shyly and affectionately at each other. A grayish goshawk flies through the trees toward the young man, while a blue-gray lynx steps over a mossy log beside the young woman.
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
kirkrafferty.com
Have you heard about this nifty little podcast where a couple writers who have no idea what they're doing, try to convince you that they know what they're doing? Fellow kids all say it slaps.

Give a listen to BAD LIT FRIENDS wherever you get your podcasts!

#WritingCommunity
badlitfriends.bsky.social Bad Lit Friends @badlitfriends.bsky.social · 1h
WHAT??? 😲 You haven't caught the latest episode of BAD LIT FRIENDS yet? This week we're talking stuff we wish we knew when we started writing, including when the best time to get going with that first book (hint: sooner than you think). Listen now!

podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/i...
February 9, 2026 at 8:25 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
hookandquillpress.com
We've been busy behind the scenes at Hook & Quill Press, but sometimes we can't help but wonder what Quillbert gets up to...

#whereintheworldisquillbert #hqpress
February 9, 2026 at 5:38 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
dawnberkoski.bsky.social
Psst. Spread the word.

The only thing more powerful than hate is love. 💓
February 9, 2026 at 2:16 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
kayleighdiaz.com
I have an idea for a horror-adjacent novel that's kiiinda like Bird Box, Blindness, and A Quiet Place, told from four perspectives and exploring the psychology of characters and societal ramifications following a Significant Event… (1/2)

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPLash
zprospero.bsky.social Zed Prospero @zprospero.bsky.social · 6h
#WIPLash

Monday’s suck. So, I thought I’d try a Monday prompt game. What WIPs or ideas do you not talk about as much? Or random ideas you’ve had that have added to you WIP pile lately? What are you excited to work on?

No rules. Just blab! 😁

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #Writers #AmWriting
#WIPLash Monday’s suck. So, share a something about one of your older, more obscure, or still just an idea on a napkin state WIPs. No rules. Just share stuff you’re excited about. @zprospero.bsky.social
February 9, 2026 at 4:18 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
professoremily.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #writingcommunity #writers #writesky

It's Mireia & Kena's first day after being ~selected~ as the new avatars of the gods. Perhaps that's why Kena reacts so strongly to the king's talk of skeptics? 🤷‍♀️

From my upcoming book THE GODS OF ATALANTIS, Part 1 of my #Atlantis trilogy.
“Come, sa’aba, what’s the harm?” Minacaal said. “This man Qiadaan, he is a teacher who gives lectures all around Atalantis. He’s gathered something of a following in recent years, and his ideas are fascinating. Have you heard of him?” Mireia shook her head. Kena stared silently down at his plate. “He makes a compelling argument that the gods don’t exist at all,” Minacaal went on, “and all of the Sun Fathers and Sea Mothers in history were just ordinary humans selected to play the part based on common personality traits. He says the only reason we still cling to the story of the gods is because it gives structure to our society. Of course, I don’t agree with him. But it does make you wonder, doesn’t it?” “I wish you hadn’t brought it up, ba’at,” Aiamin scolded him. “We’re dining with the gods, and you want to talk about a man who believes they don’t exist?” “I’m curious to know what they think,” Minacaal argued. “Who better to ask than the gods themselves? They ought to know if they’re real or not, shouldn’t they?” Mireia wasn’t sure what she thought. But Kena spoke, his quiet voice unexpectedly biting. “I think Qiadaan is a charlatan,” he declared. “He likes to say shocking things for the sake of angering people, nothing more. I don’t think even he really believes what he says.” Mireia was surprised at the vehemence of his answer. She hadn’t taken him for someone who would care passionately about defending the gods. “I agree completely, Sun Father,” said Aiamin. “I’ve been trying to tell my ba’at the same thing for ages, but he never listens to me.”
February 9, 2026 at 2:01 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
charliedeltawrites.bsky.social
February 9th – select

As a chemist, Av’ry is usually very interested to learn about new drugs.

In this case, there is something more pressing on his mind, so he is in a bit of a hurry.

#DawnsBlood

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“We work for many years to achieve the inner peace and balance we need to be worthy of the experience. Of an audience with Them. Only a select few are ever chosen for the honor.” This wasn’t helpful. Av’ry resisted the urge to tell her to stuff the mystic bullshit and be clear, as that was unlikely to go over well. Instead, he tried to pry out some information less directly. “And you have had this…honor?” “I have.” “What is it like? When you, commune with them?” “Bliss.” She smiled, far away. “For a time, you are at one with all creation. Everything is perfect. It is what we all aspire to.” “And how does it let you communicate with the dragons, precisely?” Av’ry asked. “It opens your mind to them. Let’s you hear their instructions and advice. The very lucky can even converse directly with them. As if they were here with us still,” Xiala explained. Av’ry nodded solemnly, trying to look awed by this sacred revelation. Internally, he updated his knowledge on the effects of the drug. An entheogen, certainly, as he had expected. But more specifically, it sounded like a powerful euphoric, with hallucinogenic properties. Auditory, maybe visual.
February 9, 2026 at 8:37 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
tarasgeir.bsky.social
Grio likes to spend his mornings selecting an outfit that will cope with whatever the day throws at him. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
"Get dressed," Raion said primly. "You should've been ready long ago." "I felt like enjoying myself," Grio tucked in the towel and turned around to fetch his clothes. They were hung neatly and took up almost an entire wall. He'd need a fleet of wardrobes to contain them. And this way, he could see and select what to wear today without the hindrance of opening doors. "What are our plans for today?" "We're heading down into the Dip," Anfri finally spoke and there was a dryness to his voice. His gaze kept flitting away then moving back to linger on Grio's torso. The Dip. Grio groaned internally and cast his eyes away from his more extravagant clothes. Today would be a day of casualness and for attire that could be burnt after use. He slipped a thin jerkin over his head and then let the towel fall so he could pull on tight underclothes followed by loose trousers. It was an outfit that hid the tantalising glimpses he'd allowed them to witness.
February 9, 2026 at 10:03 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
sayaashrah.bsky.social
#WIPSnips 9. “Select”

The games aren’t always fair, are they?

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #BattlemageAskaly #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #QueerWriters
Raiden stepped towards his disciples, presumably to heal Johnny as he had tried to do with Sonya, but Mïn Ashå’s raised hand blocked his advance. “Baraka. Your next adversary is Johnny Cage.” “Are you insane?” Sonya growled. “Have you looked at him?” “He is not a worthy opponent,” Baraka added. Mïn patiently waited until the protests died out. “As I am certain some of you have noted, the island begins to fade. We do not have much longer here. And while I graciously allowed you to choose your opponents for most of this tournament, I am within my rights as host to select fighters at any given time. And I am choosing now.” He cast that last word at Baraka, who returned the kind of glare that could make a heart drop dead. And speaking of his heart… It accelerated, embracing the truth that the tarkatan war chief denied: there was no escaping combat, whether his opponent was worthy of his blades or not. “Lord Mïn Ashå, allow me to heal—” “Request denied, Lord Raiden.” “What is this shit?” Sonya shouted what Askaly was too stunned to voice. “You’re so fucking clearly favouring your realm, you know he can’t win this fight!” “Then perhaps he should have been better trained.” Sonya was at the brink of explosion when Johnny placed a placating hand on her shoulder. A hand she didn’t immediately shake off. “We all have a role to fill. Don’t worry, I’m just a supporting character in this story.”
February 9, 2026 at 11:35 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
acturek.bsky.social
#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #select -> choose

Cerel orders Rushak and Drisal to stay behind as he rides, woefully undermanned, to almost certain death. First speaker is Rushak.

- From Brother’s Keeper, my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.
"You need us. You have no chance against the priestesses. But they will not touch me," Rush insisted, his voice breaking. "How can you know that?" Drisal asked, reaching to comfort him. Rush sidled his horse away; just a step or two was far enough. "There's death either way," Cerel said. He felt a steeling within himself. It was not fear; it was not the dance; it was something deeper. A resolute acceptance of fate. "I am tine chief and I CHOOSE the lesser of two evils. You stay here." Fixing the brothers with his coldest gaze, he backed Lalash away. Trapped behind Drisal and two guards, Rush condemned him with an irritating, intransigent, Lord Deran-ish glare. Cerel surveyed the area as Lalash turned on her haunches. Tents were already being erected and fires kindled. Satisfied the rest had things in hand, he went on with the eighty warriors left to him. Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
February 9, 2026 at 12:32 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
jimthevampire.bsky.social
So what is the opposite of a "meet cute"? Probably Ben meeting Elara 😂

#WIPSnips
#SciFiWriters
#sff
#WriteSky
#WritingCommunity
#WritingPrompts
#StatuesErode
As he rounded the corner, he stopped for a moment. Someone was already in there, unusual at this hour. It was normally just him. He glanced at the clock above the dispenser. 05:34. Hmm. The woman was sitting facing away from the door, her head slumped over a steaming mug. “Good morning,” he said as he walked by. She glanced up, “What?” He stopped midstride, perplexed. “Uh, good morning?” He tried a smile. She sort of grimaced at him. “Oh, yeah. Sure.” Okay. Wow. Moving on. The buttons on the dispenser glowed inviting green. Fully restocked. He selected a mint tea and a yogurt. The price flashed, he fished around his pocket — only two creds clicked together! Tea or yogurt then. Tea. He could come back. He slotted the credits and stopped sharp as a hand appeared with two more. He turned, the woman had a sheepish smile on her face. Her tired eyes locked on to his. Her slim shoulders lifted slightly in a shrug; “I hate it when that happens. Sorry for the shitty greeting. I’m Brow…Elara. Sorry.”
February 9, 2026 at 8:34 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
sagecollins.bsky.social
Johee explains Hanaran romance (or lack thereof) while Hale tries not to panic over this romantic encounter

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
From Stars, Sparkling Like Snow ✨😘
Black text, green background, “selected” highlighted pink "What about romance?" "I'm glad you asked." How could her smile actually have gotten wider than earlier? She scoots closer to me, her face centimeters away now. "Romance is frowned upon. Parents of children are SELECTED for genetics. Teenagers can engage in experimental behaviors as long as their hormones are regulated to prevent unwanted births. Usually, that hormone regulation destroys most desire for those behaviors anyway." "Didn't seem to work for you." Her face comes closer, and I close my eyes before it fills my vision. The fine hairs on her cheek brush mine as she breathes in my ear, "I procured a different type of hormone." I let out a breath and open my eyes when she pulls back, but when I open my eyes, she hasn't returned to her comfortable half-meter distance. "You don't find me ugly, do you, Hale?"
February 9, 2026 at 8:43 AM
pamelaelaela.bsky.social
A tough moment for Danbi.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #AmQuerying
📚💙
But in his eyes, there’s too much regret, and the old feeling comes back—like I’m waiting on a dock for a ship that doesn’t seek harbor. Its familiarity is savage, but there’s a criminal comfort in the understanding it grants me. “But now,” I say, and I can’t help glancing at his lips before I look back into his eyes, “[REDACTED] is here. And we’re closer than ever to [REDACTED]. And the promise you made to her is wrapped up with the promise you made to save him. And you won’t break them. Because you’re you.” Misery surges across his face. “I have to try.” No. But I nod. The single step I take away from him then is harder than every step I ever took to get closer. Choose me, my heart screams. But I say, “You have to.” Maybe I should be angry, maybe I should quake with resentment, but I don’t. I see it now—why it always felt like he was fighting the current of the tide that drew us together. And I understand what it means to him to honor his promise. I don’t tell him, but part of it has already become mine as well. I will defeat [REDACTED]. I’ll do everything in my power to make this world closer to what it can be. I’ll do it because I can’t not. I’ll do it because, maybe, I can. Our gazes refuse to diverge, and I wonder if this is the interlude or the closing, a change in key or the discordance of a mistake. Inside the ballroom, the music stops.
February 9, 2026 at 12:10 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
nushdeco.bsky.social
comm for the royally proclaimed diamond of the season, @pamelaelaela.bsky.social 🤩🤩🤩
two people walking through forest
February 5, 2026 at 1:17 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
nushdeco.bsky.social
comm wip for the incomparable @pamelaelaela.bsky.social 💜
February 3, 2026 at 1:40 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
charliedeltawrites.bsky.social
February 2nd – perish

#AnthropomorphicNovel, today!

Apparently, I only use ‘perish’ in the phrase “perish the thought” so that’s fun to learn!

Ray finds someone she has been looking for for some time. It might not go the way she planned...

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“I don’t think so. But I am glad to see you, redacted. I was hoping we would get to meet today.” “Me too.” redacted grinned broadly. “I was so concerned that, after all the trouble I went to with you, I wouldn’t be able to savor the effects myself. It would be like slaving away over a four-course meal, just to see it eaten by the dog. A terrible waste. But instead, here you are, just as I had hoped.” “I’m afraid your ability to savor anything is going to be short-lived.” My hand was already on my gun. “If you surrender, I’ll take you in alive. That’s the best I can offer.” “Don’t be absurd, Rayna.” He scoffed. “Do you really think you can get away from me?” “Perish the thought.” He spread his hands, innocently. “I don’t have any need or desire to run from you.” “I am done playing games with you, redacted.” “I know.” He nodded, a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
February 2, 2026 at 8:35 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
kayleighdiaz.com
#WIPSnips | perish vibes✨

After finding a trail of blood where a person should be…

(+Context: Shrimp doesn't speak.)

From my post-apocalyptic #WIP featuring a misfit trio of kids.

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #amwriting
Writing snippet: “Micah wouldn't leave me behind,” she said, but even as she did, a small voice inside her whispered: Unless he knew he was going somewhere you couldn't follow. Shrimp took her hand, traced GON— She pulled it away hard. “No, he ain't gone!”
February 2, 2026 at 8:53 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
tarasgeir.bsky.social
After Grio dies for a moment, Strope inherits his blood powers and struggles to control them so Halla does her best to help reduce them. #WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
Halla reached out for the heat. At first there was nothing, not even a glimmer of the potential of Strope's powers. All she received for her troubles was his grumbles. It was in his blood, that she knew, and Halla imagined the burning drops as they scourged his veins. She pictured the heat flowing from his body to hers, a magic transferred as she'd done with so many others. A tingle in her hand made Halla realise that she'd been successful in helping Strope. That and his breathing sounded normal. More heat began to rise through her fingers, crumbling the bones and inching its way towards her arm. She had to stop it before it reached any further. She was not like Strope or his brother. Already Halla could feel her body withering like an unwatered plant and she had to get rid of this stolen heat. If she wasn't burnt from the inside out then she'd perish into dust.
February 2, 2026 at 9:51 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
jundlife.bsky.social
Our hero muses on hate
From "Hat"
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips
The seed of hate is not a seed at all, it is an infection. It is a virus that only knows how to consume. Like its natural counterpart, my cellular structure will be reprogrammed to create only more virus. The process will repeat until there is nothing left but itself. Then we as a species shall perish. Entropy will have its victory.
February 2, 2026 at 10:06 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
professoremily.bsky.social
#WIPSnips #amwriting #writingcommunity #writesky

Mem sees Light for the first time 👀🏹💓

From #Charagma, my SFF dystopia where all people are marked saved or damned from birth.
Mem had never liked love-at-first-sight stories. Such a notion was completely ridiculous—the idea that one could truly “fall in love” with another person after a single look. One look told you nothing at all. And how could you love someone you knew nothing about? She still believed that. She always would, because it was true. And yet, in that moment, she finally understood what people were always going on about. No love, of course—not real love. But to her surprise, she found it was indeed possible after all to lay eyes on someone so miraculously beautiful it struck her like a curse. She felt as though all the furniture of her soul had been shaken up and rearranged. She almost swooned back against the railing. She didn’t swoon, thank El. But an involuntary gasp did escape her lips before she could stop it. The gorgeous stranger’s lips quirked in a little half-smile, and Mem knew at once he’d heard her gasp and that she would surely perish of embarrassment right where she stood. But his eyes gleamed a bit brighter amid the dazzle of the city. “Are you sure?” he asked. “S-sure—what?” Mem stammered, fighting to get her voice to work normally. “Sure that you’re alright? You looked like you were about to be sick.” “Uh-uhm.” She swallowed down a thick, dry lump. “Yeah—no, it’s just...” She waved vaguely at the door to the club. “It was really crowded in there. I get a little, uh, anxious. That’s all. But I’m fine now. Just needed some fresh air.”
February 2, 2026 at 10:46 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
sayaashrah.bsky.social
#WIPSnips 2. “Perish”

Datusha tries to convince Ashrah to do something she doesn’t want to... and in this case, the sword might not be wrong.

#ChroniclesOfTheRealms #SayaAshrah #DatushaCotR #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #QueerWriters
Yielding to the darkness will eclipse the light you gift me. “At first, there would be some conflict of interest, yes. But if you master your darkness, you can make it more susceptible to my purging.” Ashrah nibbled at her lower lip. It had taken her forty thousand Pulses to weave a second skin when most elbhyrs decided on theirs in their first five thousand. None had felt right when she imagined herself dressed in it, not when she had no intention of becoming a hunter of mortals. But since that fateful day when she witnessed the song of freedom and adopted her new form, a form that harmonised the chaos within her, that made her proud to look at her reflection—a pride that filled her soul with joy and not with hunger—she had fought her hardest to keep her demonic flesh wrapped under her spiritual skin. It was not always possible. Feeding on demons did not sustain her as much as she needed. To escape the Abyss, to strengthen herself for important battles and recover herself afterwards, she had sought prey in the fertile souls of the living. She did not regret it; to ensure her liberty, she would doom as many mortals to the Abyss as she must. But she could tread another path now. She could purify herself and extinguish her darkness once and for all—the only way she would ever achieve absolute freedom. The more power darkness tastes, the more it yearns for. Let it wither and perish. And if it resists, I shall strangle it with my blessed hands.
February 2, 2026 at 11:44 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
acturek.bsky.social
#fantasy #WritingCommunity #WriteSky #WIPSnips #perish

Rushak and his horse pick their way through the aftermath of a battle. His first experience with war.

- From Brother’s Keeper, first book of my fantasy WIP about two brothers bound by a misunderstood power.
He had no idea how long he had been unconscious. He was no warrior; he had fainted from fear and felt no shame over it. But he had taken life, and he bent now and again to retrieve spent arrows as he walked as though he would take life again. Nausea welled, disgust or homelonging twisting amid his grief. These people had perished in homelonging. The death ground now was silent, but in his ears the drumbeats pulsed. Quietly, as with cloth-covered mallets on hairy heads—almost whispers, as if they came from within his mind; and only the fearsome rhythm, one he had never heard or imagined before, told him they did not. He could not see the standing stone, but he remembered the direction. The woods thickened, pines and fuzzy firs pungent and sticky with sap. Frasca stalked beside him, stiff-necked, ears askew. The pine smell mingled with myriad others, smells of blood and death. But against every prick of instinct she stayed with him, as she always would. Brother's Keeper A.C. Turek
February 2, 2026 at 12:53 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
adregem.bsky.social
Another word I rarely use. Here's Maddie ruminating about campfires (from "Little Pieces of God," the WIP I probably won't ever finish) #WIPSnips #WIP #AmWriting #WritingPrompts #Writers #Writing #WritingCommunity #WriteSky
Sometimes, a dry branch will perish in a campfire in a perfect facsimile of its former self, retaining its shape, and sometimes even the texture of its bark. The woodsy browns become deep gray with white highlights, like frost on a January morning. Looking at those still shapes in the dead fire is a little like looking at the plaster people of Pompeii, frozen forever in the moment the volcano claimed them.
February 2, 2026 at 1:51 PM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
sagecollins.bsky.social
No “perish” but lots of death. Vibes

Evie considers the boy she couldn’t save at his grave. Even Apollo’s features have perished

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity
From Hero/Villain 🦸🏼‍♀️⚰️
Black text, green background I hesitate, then touch the gravestone. A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow to push it down. Apollo. I imagine his adorable nervousness whenever he talked to me. I can still picture the beautiful smile he gave me once. The coffin was broken open by Digger, and the corpse's head is visible, but it's unrecognizable. I can't even tell if the bone structure is right to be Apollo's. It could be anyone. "Anyone," I whisper. "Apollo Eastman, you weren't invisible then, but you're unrecognizable now."
February 2, 2026 at 9:17 AM
Reposted by Pamela Jeong
jimthevampire.bsky.social
Swapping out perish for die. A bit near the end. Ish.

#WIPSnips
#WriteSky
#WritingCommunuty
#WritingPrompts
#sff
#SciFiWriters
#StatuesErode
71. Kaili She watched O’Connell without much sympathy. The man was curled up into a ball on the deck a handful of paces from the shuttle door in the red strobing light. “Rec, open the shuttle door.” “This is not a wise course of action.” She straightened her jumpsuit and putting on her best Elara voice, said “As the ranking Officer aboard this vessel, I order you to open this door.” “Your rank is unofficial. I could deny your request on those grounds. I am unable to offer you any protection. My automated assistants are out of service.” “I don’t need protection. Open the door. When he comes in, tell him to sit down and wait.” “And if he does not comply?” She sneered. “He is a coward who thinks he is about to die. He will comply. Leave the warning playing and the scary lights. Open the door.” As the hatch cracked open, the blaring sound was louder, she imagined how she must look, bathed in red, hands on hips, striding out to the whimpering mess of a man on the deck. A small, callous smile crossed her face. She’d hoped she looked like a tiny Satan.
February 2, 2026 at 8:34 AM
pamelaelaela.bsky.social
Mundy has concerns about Danbi traveling to Korea on her own, especially considering the father she was looking for was just found dead in Alaska.

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #AmQuerying
📚💙
Chloe asks softly, “Have you tried talking to your mom, Danickers? I know it’s not easy, but—” “No! She doesn’t want to talk to me! And what else am I supposed to do?” My voice comes out loud. There are some other people pitching a tent within earshot, and their heads perk before they resume their business. “I’m sick of having zero information. I’m sick of trying to figure out a future when I know next to nothing about my past!” There is this black hole feeling I get when I have to talk about my family. A dense void that swirls right between my chest and stomach. A brewing emptiness that points only at itself, at the lack of substance. I’ve wondered what that feeling is, and I think it’s shame. Mundy looks down, shaking his head. “D, I’m not trying to discourage you. I’m just…look, when my mom died, I thought I’d never be me again. I could’ve wondered forever, about the me I lost when I lost her.” He gives me an apologetic smile. “I don’t want that for you. But…if you still want to go, of course we’re with you.” I look at him, and the black hole feeling lightens. “Thanks.” “And I’m literally with you,” Chloe chirps, “because I’m totally coming. Thus, the many bags.” I grin. “You didn’t.” “Oh, I did. Bought my ticket yesterday. My dad didn’t even blink. He said, ‘Use the Amex, and don’t tell your mother.’ Thinks she’s going to take more of his money in the divorce, as if she needs it. People do the most insane things out of guilt.” I laugh, throwing my arms around her. “You are insane.” “Now I’m jealous.” Mundy pouts. “Think of all the good food you’ll eat.” I squeeze him too. “I’ll bring you back twenty kinds of instant ramen.”
February 2, 2026 at 2:31 PM