Author: Sonia M. Rompoti
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The Small Inheritance

He’d inherited almost nothing from his father, who had died when he was twelve. A watch that didn’t keep time. A single photograph. A way of making toast — cut diagonally, always, because his father had said that diagonal cuts made sandwiches taste better, an assertion with no basis in science and absolute basis in…
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The Promise That Wasn’t Spoken

He’d never said he’d always be there for her. Not in those words — too big, too absolute, the kind of promise that collapses under its own weight the moment life complicates it. What he’d said, a month into knowing each other, was simpler: “I’m not going anywhere. For now. I just want you to…
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The Thing She Made

She’d been making things her whole life — sewn, painted, built, arranged. Her hands needed to be doing something, had always needed to, and the apartment was full of evidence: the bookshelf she’d built in year two, the quilt on the spare bed that had taken all of one winter, the mobile above the place…
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The Bad Day Protocol

They had a phrase for it, developed in year two after a few misfires: *bad day or big deal?* It had come out of an evening when she’d come home clearly upset, he’d treated it like a big deal, she’d needed it to be a bad day and nothing more, and they’d both ended up…
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The Goodbye Ritual

Every morning when he left before she did — which was most mornings — he kissed her twice. Not once. Twice. Always twice, on the same cheek, before he said goodbye. She’d noticed this almost immediately but had never asked about it, in the way you hold certain small things back from examination because you…
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What Do Witches Do in November? 7 Easy Practices for the In-Between Month

November is marketed as the cozy month. Apparently, we’re all meant to be wrapped in a blanket, holding a cinnamon drink, looking wistfully at a window while our homes glow with tasteful candles. I don’t know who has time to arrange that scene, but I suspect she has no school forms due and a much…




