Sunday My name is Sunday Mourning. Yes, you heard that correctly. And no, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about the fact I’m having a dry spell, or that I’m about to lose my job because I told a kid to screw off. And I definitely don’t want to talk about the fact that my impromptu...
Moving to the States isn’t my choice—it’s just one I have to live with. The new house doesn’t feel like a home, but then again, they never do. My relationship with my parents is just as tenuous as it’s always been and jet lag is my only companion.
Until I meet him.
The enigmatic art curator, old enough to be my father, makes me feel seen for the...
