"It happened again," Myriam said, as she entered the room. "I screwed up. I'm sorry."       She collapsed on the couch, head in her hands. "I just wanted a sip. I thought I had a handle on this ...  [+]

“Her moodiness...” my mother says in a loud whisper to Aunt Arlene. “It's those teenage hormones.”
I glare at the back of her head. She'd be moody too if she were responsible ...  [+]

There's nothing I love more than eating. Mmm, yes. Fat Boy loves a good meal. I enjoy the crunch, the squish, even the quietest sizzles as I grind every little particle between my molars. I cherish ...  [+]