It's one day before our last meal. Last. I will never, ever think of that word the same way again. All the dismal events that have happened over the past few years remain tucked away in the shadowy party of my mind--the part that holds on to all things dark with a death-tight grip. I try not to visit them often, try not to remember what they are. But--they are there--this I know. And they aren't going to go away. At some point, the shadowy part is going to run out of room, and everything sad and hopeless and catastrophic that has happened so far will overflow. That's what I have to look forward to soon: To the moment when my brain can no longer absorb it and all the darkness and sadness and oppression will burst out of their gates and fill my head with ominous sludge. I don't know why, but I have this twisted idea that celebrating Thanksgiving a few days early is actually good. If we celebrate it now, before the actual day, the holiday won't be eternally scarred. It won't be yet another memory that looms over your head, a memory that, year after year, brings a sock to your stomach of that last Thanksgiving day we ever spent as a family as a whole.
Jonas and Hattie hate Thanksgiving, but Pity Isn't An Option! (#giveaway)
Meet Jessica. Lover of all things coffee. Affinity for owls. YA author. Booknivore. Her debut novel, PITY ISN'T AN OPTION (Cozenage #1), and the Flora series are available now.