Spells for Lost Things

The world is a book, and those who do not travel only read one page.

Families splitting are like earthquakes. Yes, they are happening every day all over the world, but that doesn't make them any less shocking when they happen to you.

When subject appears dim, feed her pizza and she will regain her sparkle.

See also: excellent way to ignore the fact that although I definitely have a place to live, I most definitely do not have a place where I belong. It turns out that home and belonging aren't necessarily the same thing.

Cinque Terre. It’s on the Italian Riviera and it means ‘five hills.’ Each hill has a fishing village built into cliffs, with a hiking trail that connects them all.

the soundtrack of all the night insects chirping fills my ears.

It’s Willow, but like a fairy-tale version of Willow. She’s barefoot and wearing a coral-pink dress that somehow makes everything about her more her. More freckles, more pinkish tones to her skin, even her eyes are bigger. I know absolutely nothing about dresses, but I know this one is special—it has a heart-shaped neckline and a full skirt that looks like it comes from another era. But the thing that stops me dead in my tracks is her hair. It’s the first time I’ve seen Willow’s hair down, and looking at it makes me feel like the air has been sucked out of me. It’s long and shiny and it cascades down in chaotic waves that somehow seem to encapsulate her entire personality while also stealing every coherent thought I’ve ever had.