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Here's a going list of my Spotify playlists. I feel like these could be an audio companion for other writers, too. You crave that authentic character inspiration and the vibes for storytelling need to be immersive. You, as a writer, have to feel it! Each of my playlists is tailored to achieve the energy of those emotions and understand those nuances to the real-life experience. Find Your Ideal Writer Energy with POV Playlists I've written before about building a writing environment that actually helps you get words on the page. For me, playlists are a huge part of that. This is an ongoing collection of the playlists I make for myself while I'm writing or experimenting with an idea. Some help me get into a character's head. Some match the mood of a scene. Others are just there to keep me focused when my brain wants to wander. Not every playlist is tied to a story, either. Sometimes "writer work" means querying agents, editing, writing a blog post I'm overthinking, or trying to stay on task during my day job. I have playlists for those days, too. You'll find my featured playlists below on Spotify and YouTube Music . If you're looking for even more, my blog posts have longer lists and ideas for other music streaming services. I hope you find one that clicks and helps you settle into your story a little faster. 💚 Go to Spotify Get the Long Lists from My Blog Go to YouTube Music Sample Playlists

Explore some "procrasti-writing" resources like polls, short stories, and interactive fiction to inspire you creativity and keep your writing fun! Procrasti-Writing Resources Writers are going to procrastinate. These resources are activities close enough to the general act of writing that you could convince yourself that you were "pretty much writing" this whole time. Writer-Centric POV Playlists You crave that authentic character inspiration and the vibes for storytelling need to be immersive. You, as a writer, have to feel it! Each of my playlists is tailored to achieve the energy of those emotions and understand those nuances to the real-life experience. FIND IDEAL ENERGY *Some* Books I Read While Researching… Properly writing about a topic requires properly researching the basics, the not so basics, and the culture of your chosen topic. Below are topics that I've studied and *some* of the following books I've read within that topic. Always always ALWAYS look to your local library for educational tools! TAKE A PAGE OR TWO Polls and Questionnaires Practice for your memoirs with some insightful polling and questions about your own writing experience. Readers: there are activities for your pretty eyes to gaze upon, too! Explain to your physical body what goes on in your spiritual head. Answer the questions and feel productive! ANSWER TO EXPERIENCE Interactive Fiction Participate as the main character in this choose-your-own-adventure-style interactive fiction titled "Missing The Forest for the Tree," a stoner comedy where you're home from a hard day's work only to find that you're out of weed! Do you call a friend? Do you go to a party? Do you get through the night free of any spoilers from The Forest? DIVE INTO THE STORY

< Back Recipe for a...Dinner Party Preparation Time: 160 Minutes | Cook Time: 160 Seconds The Apartment 1 Graham, boyfriend, clean cut 1 Rosemary, Girlfriend, new age traditional 4 7:30 Dinner Invitations for this Friday 3 RSVP'd guests, work colleagues of boyfriend in assorted flavors 3 Bottles of Wine 5 6 Meals to serve The Sauce 1 secret 2 realizations 4½ spilled tears Before preparation, have Graham remind Rosemary that this dinner party is very important for his career. Have Rosemary ask what decade it is that his career rode on her homemaking skills. Set a timer for guest arrival in one hour while dinner is prepared. Opt for a simple, yet exciting meal like braised chicken quarters with mashed redskin potatoes and green peas. Graham must be prepared with proper dress pants and a beard trim. He will change his dress shirt from a blue one to a white one at Rosemary's request. This is good. While dinner is finishing up in the oven, Rosemary should change into her outfit for the evening. Don't forget to add the diamond earrings Graham bought her as a bribe to move to this town. Graham’s three colleagues should show up at the same time. If they don't, the last will show up shortly after the first bottle of wine is opened. Add wine to their glasses to begin the evening. Slowly begin incorporation of conversation between Graham, Rosemary, and the work colleagues, adding more wine for flavor. When there is a knock at the door, have Graham answer it. There will be another colleague, Colby, on the other side of the door. He did not RSVP but allow him into the mix anyway. Rosemary will invite the colleagues to the dinner table for their meal. Upon seeing Colby, she will blanch. Excuse Rosemary from the dinner party and bring her to a rolling boil inside the safety of a bathroom. When breathing exercises are completed and makeup is fixed, remove Rosemary from the bathroom, careful–the shock of seeing Colby may still shatter her. Graham will question Rosemary to see how she’s feeling. Leave that be, and turn attention to separating chicken legs for each of the colleagues. Graham will mention the bread and butter has not been set out. Rosemary will leave once again for those and another bottle of wine. Colby will excuse himself from the table and slip to the bathroom. Rosemary will run into him. Have Colby tell her, "I'm sorry, I had no idea who your husband was." Rosemary will shake her hands to shut him up and rush back to the party. She will forget the bread but not the butter. In passing each other again, Rosemary will ask Colby, "Who shows up without RSVPing?" Build a good energy around the table as guests begin to dig into their servings. Have Colby mention how “it's kind of warm in here.” Roll his sleeves up at cuff width. Repeat until the left cuff is high enough to reveal a crescent moon tattoo. Return gulp of wine from Rosemary's mouth to her glass when she catches sight of the tattoo. Quickly tip the wine glass over so that it spills on her dress. Pierce Graham's anecdote about the office to mention how clumsy she is. Excuse Rosemary to the bedroom to change into a long-sleeved dress. Surround the table with sounds of food happily being chewed and of silverware–the top shelf kind only used for these occasions–scraping together in delight. Rosemary will take this as a sign that things will go as Graham had wanted them to. Scrape up a question about how a work related project was going. Avert Rosemary's eye contact any time Colby speaks. Slip more wine into everybody's glass. At this point, meal size will be reduced to about half on everybody's plates. Remind everybody that there is more where that came from. Reach Colby's arms across the table to get more red skin potatoes. Covertly steam Rosemary’s last nerve for 4-6 seconds as soon as she notices that Colby is putting the tattoo on full display and looking at her while doing so. "Oh wow," Graham will whistle. "You have a tattoo of a moon just like Rosemary." Colby's eyebrows will rise. "Is that so?" Reduce suspicion by saying he found it a while back in the book of a tattoo artist at North Star Tattoo. Skim just enough off the top of Graham's brain to collect a statement: "That's where Rosemary got hers." Mince Colby's words very carefully here. "Fancy that." Warm Graham’s face–giving special attention to his smile. Pile a forkful of Rosemary’s juicy chicken thighs into his mouth. This will, in turn, return the dinner table to easy conversation. Rosemary's blood will drop in pressure. This is good. The table will begin to bubble again with more talk about something work-related. Stuff each guest with their meal so they'll be more willing to stay for a coffee. This is when Graham would sell them on his Big Idea, but, due to changes in guest list, Rosemary may just hurry it all along. Lift six dinner plates from the table and have Rosemary walk them to the kitchen sink. Scoop grounds into the coffee maker and consider offering bourbon as an option. Rosemary will hope this night is almost over and things will be fine as she pours only bourbon into her own mug. Bring Graham into the kitchen with everybody's silverware in tow. He will start to rinse the dishes and put them in the dishwasher. While doing so, he will thank Rosemary for handling a surprise guest so well. Nod her head furiously as means to move the conversation back to Graham's other colleagues. She will leave to see “who wants coffee?” Carve out a space for Graham to put a realization into his tender, too positive brain. Fold over Graham's attention to Rosemary when she returns. Sit back while the boiling occurs: "Didn't you say you got that tattoo as a match to somebody else's?" "I did." "You never told me who." "Haven’t I?” Graham will recall, "A former boyfriend." Colby will feel the need to enter the kitchen for that coffee. Shake Rosemary's head. She'll swallow hard. "It was a little bit more than that. It was an engagement." Graham's eyebrows will rise. At this high point of his investigation, they will not set. "You've been engaged before?" "Once. Yes. To him." Rosemary's shoulders will likely sink. That's the least of anybody's concerns. "And you never thought to tell me?" "I never thought I'd see him again." "I feel like that's important to tell your boyfriend." "That's where you and I differ." "I work with the guy, Rose." "I had no idea." "Neither did I," Colby said. Three colleagues, well-done in their craft, will know the correct social cues to excuse themselves. They will say how well everything was prepared and how much they enjoyed their night, however it will be an early morning. Colby will stand up to leave but Graham will hold out a hand out for him to stay. "Why didn't the wedding happen?" "Graham, I don't think we should– "Quiet, Rosemary." Baste Graham with a searing, oily pause. "I want to hear it from Colby." Reserve Rosemary to the side while Graham approaches Colby to ask, "Why didn't the wedding happen?" Colby will shake his head. "Whatever Rosemary told you is the truth." "Rosemary also said you were just a boyfriend," Graham will say to poke holes in the story. "She said you ended amicably." "Begrudgingly so, yes." "What do you mean by that?" Graham will press. "It's been two years since we last spoke, I can't rem–" "Two years?" Graham’s volume will double. "Graham," Rosemary will slip into the discussion. "It's not what you think." The gaze Graham will sear into Colby is normal, but no less shocking to experience. "Rosemary and I had been dating for three years before getting married. Two years ago." "Graham I–" "Is that where you went before our wedding?" Scatter any back-up plan Rosemary had by having her wilt over the dining chair and say: "I just needed closure." "For what? " Graham boiled over. "It was to return a gift. I wanted to make sure that the box, a symbol of our past, was not an obstacle with my future with you. But he insisted that I kept it." "Because it was a gift.” Colby will explain. “It was only ever a gesture of good will.” But a concern will toast up in Graham’s quickly frying mind. "What does the box look like?" "A two-toned wooden box with dovetail joints." Graham will notice Rosemary wince. He will also roll to the bedroom to get the very box Colby just described. The very box that Rosemary used to hold her most heartfelt trinkets. No logic will be spread, sprinkled, or spooned over Graham's mind before he upends the box and dumps the contents as he walks to the fireplace, finally tossing the box into the roaring fire. "Graham–!" Rosemary will shriek. Neighbors will likely pound on the floor. This will not knock down the bubbled over emotions. The final step, all anyone can do from here, is to watch the box char and crumble. Yields: Remnants of a past and present love life. No career advancement for Graham. A new lease on Oak Boulevard for Rosemary…and Colby. Back to Anthologies

Katherine Arkady writes contemporary fiction with speculative edges, exploring life’s turning points while helping writers craft authentic characters through research. HELLO! I AM WRITER, RESEARCHER, & PODCAST HOST Writer of contemporary fiction with speculative edges, exploring life’s turning points while helping writers craft authentic characters through research. therealkatherinearkady@gmail.com 313-637-5213 About About MY BACKGROUND I write contemporary fiction with speculative edges, usually about twenty-and-thirty-somethings standing at moments where life branches into too many directions at once. My stories explore what it feels like to face those forks in the road when the characters don't have quite enough life experience to navigate the forks—and how imagination, memory, and the strange edges of reality shape the choices we make. My work is driven by curiosity about how people actually live. I host the podcast Takes One to Write One , where I explore the real experiences behind compelling characters and share research approaches that help writers build more authentic stories. I’m currently developing workshops and research-focused resources for writers. I practice what I call “method writing”—immersing myself in unfamiliar work and environments to better understand the people who inhabit them. My research has taken me from six months as a jeweler’s apprentice to ongoing training as a Certified Master Gardener, as well as years running a freelance dog-sitting business. Along the way I’ve also worked as a landscaper and fashion boutique key-holder, each experience offering another lens into the rhythms of everyday life. Outside of writing, I bring a background in video production, graphic design, and podcast development to my creative work. I’m based in Michigan and spend as much time as possible traveling across the state looking for the small details and unexpected stories that eventually find their way into fiction. Studies (and SOME RABBIT HOLES) Associate’s Degree in Video Production: training in storytelling, visual framing, and how narrative is shaped through technical choices Jeweler’s Apprentice: studying craftsmanship, precision, and the emotional weight behind custom pieces and client requests Folk Magic & Intuitive Practice: exploring everyday enchantment, symbolic ritual, and intuitive “clair-based” perception as tools for reframing and navigating real-life problems Landscaper: working with physical environments, transformation over time, and the relationship between people and place Modern Dating: examining vulnerability, expectation, and how people navigate connection Restaurant Hostess : immersed in restaurant operations as lived experience—developing an understanding of how environment, logistics, and human behavior converge to create the reality behind dining narratives Clothing Boutique Key Holder: observing personal style, identity, and the dynamics between presentation and perception Receptionist (Substance Use & Mental Health Clinic) : immersed in the daily rhythms of treatment environments. Developing firsthand insight into how structure, confidentiality, and human behavior interact under pressure, uncertainty, and the pursuit of stability Extension Master Gardener Training: studying seasonal cycles, patience, and growth as both literal and metaphorical processes Pagan Practice & Seasonal Living: engaging with the wheel of the year, honoring cycles of nature, ancestral connection, and grounded spiritual ritual as lived experience Interview-Based Research: drawing out lived experience, personal narratives, and the details that shape how people see the world Graphic Designer & Print Installer: translating ideas into visuals and understanding how environment shapes experience Business Incubation Program Graduate: exploring risk, ambition, and the realities of building something from the ground up Dog Sitter: understanding routine, trust, and nonverbal communication Band Groupie: firsthand exposure to music culture, identity, and the realities behind performance and persona Interests BEYOND THE STUDY HALL Playing JEOPARDY! from My Couch Hiking in Any Forest Visiting Museums for their Art & Culture Needlework Crafts like Cross-stitch and Embroidery Cooking Challenges to "Make It Better Than the Restaurant" Traveling Around Michigan Grounding Myself with Witchcraft Collecting Photos of Vanity License Plates (550+!) Studies and Interests Skills & Languages Skills and Languages MY EXPERTISE Method Writing Podcast Production and Editing Digital Research Interviewing & Interpersonal Skills Media Ethics Social Media Management Graphic Design Tools English Italian Cats and Dogs Connect with Me © 2026 By Katherine Arkady. All rights reserved. therealkatherinearkady@gmail.com (313) 637-5213

Practice for your memoirs with some insightful polling and questions about your writing experience. Readers: there are activities for your pretty eyes to gaze upon as well. Explain to your physical body what goes on in your spiritual head. Answer the questions and feel productive! Polls & Questionnaires Practice for your memoirs with some insightful polling and questions about your writing experience. Readers: there are activities for your pretty eyes to gaze upon as well. Explain to your physical body what goes on in your spiritual head. Answer the questions and feel productive! Clicking the titles on the left will take you to corresponding Google Forms pages. Submissions will be visible by Takes One to Write One . Information submitted can and will be used for data charts and opinion pieces published to my social media. No personal data or identifying information will be shared. Writer's Poll: Part One Being a writer is hard. It's a lifestyle. It's not for the weak. Share your feelings because you (a writer) can answer these about yourself (a writer) and your stories (that are totally nearly finished) because you, (a writer), can reason your way not only into believing the questionnaire isn't wasting time but is, in fact, helping out your storytelling abilities. Because it totally is. Writer's Poll: Part Two Despite the difficulties of honing your writing skills, you carry on. Much like you carry on answering these writer-related questions. You are a writer, and you have thoughts. I'm ready to read them. Reader's Poll: Part One To be a good writer, you must be well-read. How else does one learn the skills of storycrafting, grammar, and your own writer's voice? To be a good reader, you must have a passion for learning and discovery. How else can you actively stare at a page with squiggly characters and use the formations to conjure a story in your mind? This poll is totally a writer's and reader's tool for storytelling and learning. Not procrastinating in the slightest—or so you can reason. Reader's Poll: Part Two To be a REALLY good writer, you must be REALLY well-read. How else does one REALLY REALLY learn the skills of storycrafting, grammar, and your own writer's voice? To be a REALLY good reader, you must have a REALLY BIG passion for learning and discovery. How else can you actively stare at a page with squiggly characters and use the formations to conjure a story in your mind? This poll is totally a continuation of a writer's and reader's tool for storytelling and learning. Not procrastinating more—or so you can reason. Questionnaire About Your Local Library Your local library: a "third place" to welcome writers and readers alike. They are the source of knowledge on books and other media, they are a community hub for seminars or events, and they are a place where it's perfectly acceptable to curl up with a book and go to another land. Indulge me in your opinions because you can reason your way not only into believing the questionnaire isn't wasting time but is, in fact, helping out your storytelling and reading abilities. Because it totally is. Likert Scale About Writer Stereotypes Stereotypes can be hurtful: some because they're mean and some because they're so correct you feel you've been stabbed with accuracy. Share your feelings because you (a writer) can answer these about yourself (a writer) and your stories (that are totally nearly finished) because you, (a writer), can reason your way not only into believing the questionnaire isn't wasting time but is, in fact, helping out your storytelling abilities. Because it totally is. Likert Scale About Publishing Industry Stereotypes Not all marketers have to be writers but all writers have to be marketers of their stories and that means standing up to the BIG players of publishing. Below are some stereotypes about the publishing industry. What are your opinions on the Goliath Monster standing before David-esque writers? Indulge me in your opinions because you can reason your way not only into believing the questionnaire isn't wasting time but is, in fact, helping out your storytelling and reading abilities. Because it totally is. Your Favoritest, Most Specialist Character in Your Stor(y/ies) Our favorite characters might be who we want to be, might be based heavily on a loved one, or is a favorite for just existing. They were created with love by your amazing writer's brain and they are as much us as we are them. Tell me about the character you feel most strongly about with this questionnaire and you may be surprised to find there is more to learn about yourself. Your Most Hated, Vile Character That You (Almost) Wish You Never Had to Create for the Stor(y/ies) This character came from a deep, dark place inside of you and you hated every interaction with them. They were vital, yes, to the ultimate goal of creating a cathartic story, but at what price? Your fingers typed or wrote those descriptions. Your lips formed the same vile dialogue. You gave them a name. Are they still a part of you? Have you conquered your greatest shadow? Find out in this simple and fun questionnaire! <3 Common Knowledge Quiz Writers must fill in the holes of reader knowledge so that readers can stay immersed in the story, not the confusion. See below for questions asking about things that should be common knowledge. How well will you score against the collective? Since I can't tell if you cheat or not, I will state here that we operate on the honor system and karmic code, so...do with that what you will.

While I prefer to write novels, there are just some stories that have to stay short. Here are installments of my short stories! Short Stories While I prefer to write novels, there are just some stories that have to stay short. Here are installments of my short stories! Recipe for a...Dinner Party What a Tangled Web It Was Driving Her Batty

< Back What a Tangled Web "Oh what a tangled web we weave / When first we practice to deceive." -Sir Walter Scott "Good morning," Daphne whispered to the birds and bugs outside on her balcony. She pinched a well-endowed joint between her fingers and lit it up. She had a nice hour and a half before Brandon got home. They were going to watch audition tapes of live bands to hire for their wedding until he passed out from working the night shift at the hospital. She almost needed to be high to endure the auditions. Brandon, bless his heart, needed a live band at their wedding. Daphne wasn't opposed to that, but the live talent available in Canard Grey versus the live talent available in Brandon's beloved Chicago was like asking for a popstar to play a county fair. The county had good talent, but God, did this town love their lumberjack melodies. And boy, were the spiders coming in fierce these last couple of days. She didn't see any, though their webs, stretched from the storm last night, wiggled a hello to her. They were abundant. Life, though arachnid, had returned to Canard Grey. Daphne sat down in one of the pine chairs Brandon got her for a moving-in present two years ago. Back then he didn't mind her smoking weed. These chairs were made for balcony lounging. Now it was Brandon's prerogative to have her quit by their wedding. He didn't want to move into a new house and smoke it up. We rent this place right now, Daph. I could kind of care less. But he did care because he made a habit of asking when she last smoked. Brandon was under the impression Daphne smoked only on the weekends. However, no long weekend had ever extended into Wednesday. Daphne relit the joint. She needed this. As she noticed the ends catch flame and start to create a luscious char. She stopped worrying so much about bookings or menus and wouldn't give another thought to the colors. It was freshly June. The wedding wasn't until September. She didn't want to count the days. She wanted to count the dew drops that had developed on the spiders' webs overnight. She would sit with the sunrise and be glad for the late-spring day. She inhaled the foggy, grassy air, exhaled, and brought in the earthy cosmic smoke from the weed. This was her meditation. The spiders were out and proud when she slid open the balcony door. Because she had slept in, the sun was up higher than she was used to, as well. But she needed the sleep after working hard confirming the hotel rooms and planning out the menu, and squinting at invitation fonts all day. Who cared that much about fonts? Brandon was tied between two. Her stomach dropped to her ankles when she spotted a lighter on the balcony table. She had left it there yesterday morn ing. Damnit. Thank God Brandon had slept and gamed all day. Had he noticed, Daphne feared she would be called out on the spot for smoking and she couldn't handle this pressure. After her "tapering schedule" to quit weed reached the point where she probably shouldn't be seen smoking every day, Daphne had begun smoking at night after Brandon left for night shift. And while this weaved a tangled web, it was also the only hand she could play. And, smoking at night offered privacy from neighbors in the building–-and probably a block over–sniffing out who was skunking up the place. Smoking was also more exciting than going over a seating plan. The delinquency was, however, getting her a little paranoid. As Daphne toked on a blunt this time, she admired a new web zigzagging between the railing posts to her left. The spider was working at the bottom, crawling from one string to another and laying more below it. Normally she hated being in close proximity with spiders, but with a new dose of THC to her mind, she was enraptured. She squinted to get the right focus upon the delicate weaving. The spider was likely aware a human was around it, but that meant nothing when there was work to be done–a meal to be caught. An artful ode to hunger. Their webs were undaunted art in the presence of those greater than them. She respected their hard work. They were mesmerizing when the light of the sunrise hit it just right. She didn't get to see that when she smoked at sunset. However, while the spiders could weave all they wanted along the balcony railing, Daphne picked off the webs that bridged themselves from the patio to her bedroom window. Daphne was only halfway through planning. Brandon’s mother could weave herself into the wedding planning as much as she wanted to. Less for Daphne to do. A wedding cake had yet to be discussed and she had no idea what to wear for her shower or what thank you cards to buy or where to start with her vows or– She slowly exhaled a delightful strain of sativa. She needed to relax. It was good that she started the day with a smoke instead of finishing a night off with one. Smoking weed seemed much more motivating in the morning than when finishing off the day with a smoke. The spiders, also like the joint and the night, lost their delinquency at sunrise. Somehow, to Daphne, these spiders had good personalities in the early hours. It was likely the weed. Daphne wondered if spiders tried to get high. Birds did, raccoons did, cats too. Why not spiders? She ventured to blow a little smoke the spider's way. If anything to chill him out and not cause problems. Even through a closed balcony doorwall, Daphne could still hear the front doorjam’s lock turn over. She had five seconds–tops–before the other lock was undone and Brandon was inside to see that Daphne was not. One: Daphne stamped out the joint. Two: she stepped inside–making sure the doorwall was closed–and hopped to the kitchen. Three and four: rinsed her mouth with mouthwash in the fridge and spit. And at the fifth second: “Hello, honey!” Daphne said from afar. “Can you go check the mail?” Daphne was relieved to see Brandon sleepily nod and close the door behind him. Before he made it back up from the mailbox, Daphne would slip to their bedroom on the other side of the apartment to hide the joint in a glass jar inside of another glass jar, brush her teeth, light some incense, smoke her hair in case the weed stuck, spray his favorite perfume and fucking distract him with that one position he was particularly fond of. And then watch the audition tapes… The next week, while pulling from an expertly rolled joint, Daphne observed the sparrows and grackles congregating on her neighbor's balcony. They loved whatever treats she set out. Daphne thought about leaving seed out on her own balcony for the birds, but she was already a hot spot for spiders and that was enough wildlife for one balcony. While spying into her neighbors balcony, wondering if the girl was single or living with another, her eyes caught sight of something large in her closer vision. Daphne focused, in horror, on a big spider not five inches from her face. This one looked like it would crunch if you squeezed it hard enough. Its sheer size was enough to make her want to swat and step on it. This was another reason why it was so nice to come out here during the day. She couldn't begin to imagine how many spiders went unnoticed when Daphne had spent her nights here. To save herself and, by some measure, the spider, Daphne took her joint inside. Brandon was working a day shift today, so he would be returning well into the evening and long after the weed smoke dissipated. She left the screen door open because the air was newly fragranced with local pollinator gardens. No wonder the spiders liked the heights of the apartment–all the better to feast on bugs with. They just couldn't come inside. Daphne pulled from the joint and blew the smoke through the screen door. She would have to open the home office's window on the other side of the apartment to get enough airflow to clear the weed smell. Daphne's gasp sucked the air out of said office. A spider, much like the big ones she saw on the balcony, had weaved a web around Brandon's records. The very records they were going to play tonight while practicing their first dance choreography. Daphne wanted to get better at her rhythm so she could step in time to Brandon's lead. It was so important to him. But she couldn't step in time unless she subdued her anxiety with a puff or two of weed. Or, at least, didn't want to step in time without a puff or two of weed... Daphne stared at the spider. Its web was more intricate than the smaller spiders. She wondered if they were able to communicate anything through their webs. She wondered how she was going to pull the artist away from its creation. She hated to bring out the vacuum. But she couldn't stomach the cup method when they were that big. Now that it was dead into July, the heat was making these spiders grow way too big. Forget one or two insects, they were feasting on entire swarms of bugs now. Daphne winced when she heard the spider sucked through the hose. She gingerly wound up the weaving of the artist who died without a meal. She quickly opened the window and begrudgingly pulled the record player and two records out to the living room to set up for their practice. On a surprisingly cooler late July evening on an even more surprising day-off from work, Brandon suggested they enjoy a glass of wine on the balcony. It was nearing an entirely enjoyable evening for Daphne…until Brandon let one rip. “Ope, barking spiders,” Brandon chuckled. “Oh, and I ask you to stop farting those big ones around me but the second it smells like weed–” Daphne shut herself up. She shouldn't have picked a fight, especially not with weed. But she was tense. It had been days since she last smoked. It was an eager, earnest attempt this time. Brandon deserved that and more. She was excited to be his wife. But the ceremony and sobriety may drive her off this very balcony. "Come on Daphne, like I don't know you hide your weed jar in snow boots in the corner of our closet.” Daphne could only sip from her glass. And she knew her stomach would get upset. She wasn’t a drinker. She feared she was going to give up one vice just to tack onto another. Brandon leaned forward and looked at Daphne. “What’s going on, Daph?” “I can’t talk about this.” “But we already have talked about this,” Brandon pleaded and took Daphne’s hand to hold. “Quitting weed is important to me, and I thought it’d be important for us. It’s something I need before we start this next chapter.” Daphne’s voice grew colder with every word: “Right. Because the biggest issue in our lives right now is me smoking weed. Not the fact that I’m the one drowning in wedding crap while you’re just... sitting there, reminding me to quit something that actually helps me deal with all of this.” “That’s not fair,” Brandon said. His voice was tighter. He let go of Daphne’s hand. “I’m with you during a great deal of the planning. I took work off to meet with the florist! But you shut me out of the other things going on in your head. You just…retreat.” Daphne couldn’t look him in the eye. “Maybe because every time I do, it’s like you’ve got a checklist of things I need to fix, starting with ‘quit weed.’ How about you let me breathe instead of adding more to my plate?” "Do you even hear yourself right now?” Brandon asked. “I’m asking for something that matters to me, for us. ” “What matters to you ,” Daphne corrected. She worried the spiders would get anxious that the humans were beginning to fight. “It’s always what you want, what makes you feel better. I’ve got enough going on without trying to meet some ridiculous expectation of yours.” “Ridiculous?” Brandon clearly spoke out of hurt. “Wanting you to be clear-headed and focused on our future is ridiculous? You won’t even try, Daphne. And you never tell me what’s really going on—just snap when I try to help.” “Because you don’t help! You just make me feel like I’m failing, like I’m the one ruining everything. Maybe you should stop adding more rules for me to follow!” “Maybe if you actually communicated instead of hiding behind your habits, we wouldn’t be fighting right now!” "You want communication?” Daphne asked. She slapped her hand on the balcony to lift herself up. “Fine! I feel like if you really loved me, you wouldn’t keep pushing me to give up the one thing that’s actually getting me through this wedding planning!” Brandon was suddenly calm. “If the only thing getting you through this is weed, maybe we have bigger problems.” It felt like February had befallen them. Frost settled on their silence. They were both too angry to say more. Finally, with a flat voice, Brandon stood and uttered, “I’m going to bed. I can’t do this right now.” Daphne simply nodded and sat back down. Brandon left with any good vibes left for the night. The spiders were her only solace. And they didn’t have much to say either. She waited until the last light disappeared over the horizon before going inside. But even in the bathroom she wasn’t left alone. A spider, a big, mechanically divined spider was strolling around the sink’s basin. Without a cringe or a whimper, she took her rinsing cup and set it over the spider. A sample pack of serum was big enough to slide under the cup’s opening and trap the spider. It was promptly evicted out of the front door. Daphne then settled into the bed that was unmade with anger and stewed in her own bitterness during the night. Daphne had smoked just a little bit this morning to take the edge off of her post-fight anxiety with Brandon. But just a little and then she was done and then she was back to being sober for the rest of the day. She could ride out this season into her wedding with a clear mind and be happy. Once the fall chill was here to stay, her balcony would be clear of spiders, too. Daphne had given up the contest for spotting the largest spider because she felt she had begun manifesting something terrible. A living nightmare would be anything larger than the one she had just locked all eight eyes with. That thorax would pop like a boiled cranberry. Man, oh man, nature was wild for creating this one. A spider was 1/68 the size of her. She needn't worry for her life, yes, but there were also nearly 3 million spiders on this earth to just one of her in a heart stopping ratio. Numbers mattered. Was Brandon gaming up with the spiders to get her to confess? No, that was high talk. She gave a clean, healthy exhale–not a wisp of smoke. When hearing the lock turn over, Daphne didn’t have anywhere to run but towards Brandon. But, with only one gleeful step his way, she stopped herself. They were still fighting. “Hey.” Brandon didn’t look her in the eye. “I’m going to hop in the shower.” “Okay,” Daphne said. Meek. She tried to weave an anecdote together to get more of his attention, but– Brandon looked at her. “Join me?” Daphne smiled. This was a truce. They weren’t going to solve the argument tonight, but they were no longer going to be opponents. “Okay.” It was quiet between them, but no longer tense. Daphne felt caught in a web, waiting until Brandon, the spider, decided what to do with her. Daphne gently scrubbed Brandon’s back and said, "Male spiders die for sex, you know that?" "Oh yeah?” Brandon asked and turned around. He was generous in soaping Daphne up. “Maybe we don't have too much difference between us." She would wash his hair and enjoy him doing the same for her. Only after getting squeaky clean did they both leave the shower and towel each other off. He kissed her. "Come to bed." "I've got to take care of something first." "Then come to bed?” That spider was approaching mygalomorph sizes. She would die to have that tarantula sleeping anywhere within a three foot vicinity of her. If she survived this, she would look up if they were able to jump. She didn’t want to know now while she captured it under a cup. It looked the same as the one she relocated last night. Had it been able to return so quickly? Had it grown fangs since then? Instead of putting the spider outside the door for a soft landing on the balcony, Daphne held the cup but pretended to overhand it just to ensure the spider was out, far, and away from Daphne. Now she could go to bed. Daphne should have thrown the cup, too. The spider was back. It had to be the same one. Otherwise, she should call Michigan DNR to track a huge population of mutant spiders. After she smoked a little bit. “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” Daphne asked the arachnid. It hadn’t begun weaving a web yet, but she wasn’t going to let it stay to scope out a spot. Daphne toked from her joint and pondered her options. The only one she liked involved putting on a bra and shoes. And so she did. And afterwards, she put her friend under a cup for the journey. They were going to the park. Daphne gasped once when the paper left an opening for the spider to exit through, but it seemed the spider had gotten comfortable for the ride. Daphne had no issue descending the stairs and beginning the sidewalk trek. But she did have an issue when seeing Brandon walking up to her. She still had the joint hanging from her mouth! "I got this guy and he needs to be relocated,” Daphne quickly explained. “I didn't have time to set him down and put this out." "Is it out?" "I may have puffed once or twice in the staircase." Daphne prepared for Brandon’s disappointment to manifest into another fight. But instead, he took the joint from her lips, pulled a lighter from his pocket, and lit it like a professional–all the way around. "Where are we going?" he asked. "To the park." "Great, and then I think we ought to talk about a little smoking spot in our backyard for you. You might want to marry me for that." "I never didn't want to marry you," Daphne said in earnest. "I just...it's daunting and I felt like I needed to hide from you instead of share from you. I'm going to keep my habits. And I'm going to communicate with you. And you can fart all you want." Brandon chuckled and held the joint out for her to toke hands-free. "I felt like I needed to change that about you in order to know for sure that you wanted to go through with marrying me. That wasn't fair of me for not properly communicating." Daphne exhaled the smoke. "Can I share with you?" "Only if I can share with you." Brandon pulled from the joint. "Will you marry me?" "I'll marry you today," Daphne said. "We can take this spider to the courthouse as a witness. But maybe we should sober up beforehand." "That thing needs to be as far away from us as possible. But I can hold it." Brandon carefully took the cup from Daphne. "As for sobering up, I think we ought to relax and enjoy the walk." Daphne graciously accepted the joint from her fiancé. "Lead the way." Back to Anthologies

Participate as the main character in this interactive fiction titled "Missing 'The Forest' for the Tree," a stoner comedy where you're home from a hard day's work only to find that you're out of weed! Do you call a friend? Do you go to a party? Do you get through the night free of any spoilers from The Forest? Choose your own adventure! "Missing The Forest for the Tree" Interactive Fiction Participate as the main character in this interactive stoner comedy. You're home from a hard day's work only to find that you're out of weed! Do you call a friend? Do you go to a party? Do you get through the night free of any spoilers from The Forest? Start below and see where the story takes you! All you have to do is choose... This project was made possible with Twine . Twine is an open-source tool for telling interactive, nonlinear stories. No coding knowledge necessary, though you can can extend your stories with variables, conditional logic, images, CSS, and JavaScript. Twine publishes directly to HTML, so you can post your work nearly anywhere—like this website! Better yet, anything created with Twine is completely free to use any way you like, including commercial purposes. Learn more at twinery.org

Writing well-rounded characters starts with real insights. Listen to Takes One to Write One, where guests share their experiences to inspire your stories and the characters in them! The Takes One to Write One Podcast I'm Katherine Arkady and I’m a writer. However, my characters are everything but. While research gives me information about their jobs and lifestyles, it doesn’t give me the first-hand experience needed to write a well-rounded character. So I created this podcast where I invite people on to talk about their jobs, their hobbies, or their beliefs, because it Takes One to Write One. Subscribe to Takes One to Write One for bi-weekly insights so you can write authentic, well-rounded characters through interviews and real-life stories.

As someone who is dedicated to showing folk the resources available for their writing, I believe that accessibility is fundamental to achieving my mission. Research and education should never be limited by physical, sensory, or technical barriers. By making my website more accessible, I hope to ensure that everyone has the opportunity to learn and grow, no matter their circumstances. Accessibility Statement My Commitment to Accessibility I, Katherine Arkady of Takes One to Write One, am committed to providing an inclusive and accessible experience to everyone, including individuals with disabilities. As someone who is dedicated to showing folk the resources available for their writing, I believe that accessibility is fundamental to achieving my mission. Research and education should never be limited by physical, sensory, or technical barriers. By making my website more accessible, I hope to ensure that everyone has the opportunity to learn and grow, no matter their circumstances. Known Limitations While I am committed to improving accessibility, there may be some areas of the website that aren’t yet fully accessible. If you encounter any issues or have trouble accessing certain content, please feel free to reach out. I am always working on improvements to my website and other content and will make adjustments as necessary. Contact Me If you have trouble accessing any part of the website or if you have any concerns about accessibility, please contact me at takesonetowriteone@gmail.com or through the contact form . Your feedback is essential to me, and I am committed to addressing any issues you encounter. Feedback and Updates I welcome your feedback on how I can further improve accessibility. This accessibility statement will be reviewed regularly to ensure that it remains up-to-date and reflects ongoing efforts to make the site as accessible as possible. Last Updated January 18, 2025 Resources Is Your Website Accessible? https://accessible.org/ The Americans with Disabilities Act: https://www.ada.gov/law-and-regs/ Web Content Accessibility Guidelines: https://www.w3.org/TR/WCAG21/ W3C Web Accessibility Initiative: https://www.w3.org/WAI/ NVDA Screen Reader (Free): https://www.nvaccess.org/download/ Attribution The framework for this accessibility statement was created by Kris Rivenburgh and customized by Takes One to Write One.

Properly writing about a topic requires properly researching the basics, the not so basics, and the culture of your chosen topic. Below are topics that I've studied and *some* of the following books I've read within that topic. *Some* Books I Read While Researching… Properly writing about a topic requires properly researching the basics, the not so basics, and the culture of your chosen topic. Below are topics that I've studied and *some* of the following books I've read within that topic. Publishing Likeable Social Media: How to Delight Your Customers, Create an Irresistible Brand, and be Generally Amazing on All Social Networks That Matter (Third Edition, 2019) by Dave Kerpen Influencer: Building Your Personal Brand in the Age of Social Media by Brittany Hennessy (2018) by Brittany Hennessy Making the Perfect Pitch (2004) by Katharine Sands Before and After the Book Deal: A Writer's Guide to Finishing, Publishing, Promoting, and Surviving Your First Book (2020) by Courtney Maum The Byline Bible (2018) by Susan Shapiro The Book Bible (2022) by Susan Shapiro The Poets&Writers Complete Guide to Being a Writer: Everything You need to Know about Craft, Inspiration, Agents, Editors, Publishing, and the Business of Building a Sustainable Writing Career (2020) by Kevin Larimer and Mary Gannon The Author's Toolkit: a Step-by-Step Guide to Writing and Publishing Your Book (2010) by Mary Embree Novel and Short Story Writer's Market 40th Edition (2021) by Amy Jones Writer's Market 100th Edition: The Most Trusted Guide to Getting Published Paperback by Robert Lee Brewer Podcast / Interviews Talk to Me: How to Ask Better Questions, Get Better Answers, and Interview Anyone Like a Pro by Dean Nelson The Art of the Interview: Lesson s from a Master of the Craft by Lawrence Grobel Interviewing: A Guide for Journalists and Writers by Gail Sedorkin The Craft of Interviewing by John Brady Listenable by Bert Weis Not Just Chatting: How to Become a Master Podcast Interviewer by Nicole Christina Make Noise: A Creator's Guide to Podcasting and Great Audio Storytelling by Eric Nuzum Good Listen: Creating Memorable Conversations In Business And Life by Joe Pardavila Interviewology: The New Science of Interviewing by Anna Papalia Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About the People We Don't Know by Malcolm Gladwell The Essential Digital Interview Handbook: Lights, Camera, Interview: Tips for Skype, Google Hangout, GotoMeeting, and More (The Essential Handbook) by Paul. J. Bailo NPR's Podcast Start Up Guide: Create, Launch, and Grow a Podcast on Any Budget by Glen Weldon Blog / Website Blogging All-in-One For Dummies by Amy Lupold Bair Beginning HTML5 and CSS3 For Dummies by Ed Tittel and Chris Minnick Biographies Spillane: King of Pulp Fiction by Max Allan Collins and James L. Traylor Virginia Woolf: A Writer's Life by Lyndall Gordon Baking/Bakeries How to Bake Everything: Simple Recipes for the Best Baking by Mark Bittman Understanding Baking: the Art and Science of Baking by Joseph Amendola Professional Baking by Wayne Gisslen Becoming a Baker by Glynnis MacNicol The Storyteller by Jodi Picoult Handymen Reader’s Digest - Ask the Family Handyman The Family Handyman 1. Make It Last 2. Helpful Hints : Quick And Easy Solutions, Timesaving Tips, Tricks Of The Trade 3. Decks, Patios, And Porches : Plans, Projects, And Instructions For Expanding Your Outdoor Living Space 4. Helpful Hints : Quick And Easy Solutions, Timesaving Tips, Tricks Of The Trade. 5. Woodworking--Room By Room : Furniture, Cabinetry, Built-Ins, And Other Decorative Projects For The Home. Fashion Styling Planet Fashion : 100 Years Of Fashion History by Natasha Slee Fashion Design Course by Steven Faerm Becoming A Fashion Designer by Lindsay Peoples Wagner The Style Thesaurus : A Definitive, Gender-Neutral Guide To The Meaning Of Style And An Essential Wardrobe Companion For All Fashion Lovers by Hannah Kane How To Be A Fashion Designer by Lindsay Ware 200 Skills Every Fashion Designer Must Have: The Indispensable Guide to Building Skills and Turning Ideas into Reality by Aisling McKeefry Weed/Marijuana Smoke Signals : A Social History Of Marijuana : Medical, Recreational, And Scientific by Martin A. Lee A Woman's Guide To Cannabis: Using Marijuana To Feel Better, Look Better, Sleep Better--And Get High Like A Lady by Nikki Furrer Weed The People: The Future Of Legal Marijuana In America by Bruce Barcott Everything You Need To Know About The Risks Of Marijuana by Sandra Giddens Marijuana Is Safer: So Why Are We Driving People To Drink? by Steve Fox Cooking with Cannabis: More than 100 Delicious Edibles - A Cookbook (Volume 1) (Cannabis Wellness) by Pat Crocker High Times: Let's Get Baked!: The Official Cannabis Cookbook by Haejin Chun and Jamie Evans Bong Appétit: Mastering the Art of Cooking with Weed by Editors of MUNCHIES Boats Boating Skills And Seamanship by the United States Coast Guard Auxiliary Easy To Draw Boats by Mark Bergin Cruising Guide To The Great Lakes And Their Connecting Waterways by Marjorie Cahn Brazer The Nature Of Boats: Insights And Esoterica For The Nautically Obsessed by Dave Gerr The Essentials Of Living Aboard A Boat: The Definitive Guide For Liveaboards by Mark Nicholas Painting Painting Flowers and Plants by Janet Whittle The Art Of Illusion : A Trompe L'oeil Painting Course by Janet Shearer The Brushstroke Handbook : the Ultimate Guide to Decorative Painting Brushstrokes by Maureen McNaughton Art School: A Complete Painters Course by Patricia Monahan Donna Dewberry's One Stroke Painting Course by Donna S. Dewberry

< Back It Was Driving Her Batty drive someone batty: fig. to annoy or irritate someone While Esther sat on her sister's apartment balcony with a glass of juice disguised as wine, she caught sight of a figure flying through the dark sky. Was it a bird? She couldn't tell. It looked awfully quick to be a bird. More confusing yet, it had suddenly fallen out of her view. This was late into the evening though, so that could be attributed to the night instead of her anxiety. Then another black figure, not so big at all, flew above her head. A bat! It flew in and out of her sights despite staring at an open sky. As if its angled wings could pierce a quick hole into the night to make a shortcut back into the other side of her vision. Esther wished she could feel like that. She was here for the weekend to do some escaping but it didn't seem far enough. "You're still out here?" Esther's sister, Delilah, asked. "John thought you had gone on a walk." "There are bats." "Do you want to come in?" A bat dodged one way, no–flew another way to grab something then swooped up. "I'll stay out here for a little while longer." Delilah wanted to stay for the show. She heard more clicking in the distance. Her bat friend had more friends slipping in and out of the night along with it. As the moon rose higher in the sky, more little bodies were illuminated. It was becoming hard to tell one bat's chitters from the other. Some sounded more like a zip, like they put their dashes on double time to warn of an imminent collision. If only Esther could have avoided her big accident. "Esther," her sister said from a crack in the doorwall. "I must insist you come in before the temperatures freeze your toes off." The next morning, Delilah's husband John made rhubarb pancakes. She felt like a teenager back when John made these for the whole family. Delilah and John were the "high school sweethearts" type of perfect. The next morning, Delilah's husband John made rhubarb pancakes. She felt like a teenager back when John made these for the whole family. Delilah and John were the "high school sweethearts" type of perfect. The exact opposite of Esther. She needed to disappear for a while. To add fuel to the fire, Esther wasn't feeling great, uh, down there, so she had gotten a full panel test for STDs, STIs, and unidentified vaginal objects three days ago when back home in Detroit. She was supposed to have a call from the doctor's office by the end of the third business day. She paid extra to have a rush on the results. But, to add more fuel to the fire, Ester's phone carrier was going through a black out so while she could see that the doctor's office left her a message, she could not receive it. She was in the dark void she had hoped for last night. She worried about the message for the rest of the morning and the entire afternoon. Esther considered making it an early night in, but she had also hoped to see the bats this evening. She had set up camp on the balcony at sunset and had patiently waited for them with a bowl of John's chili in hand. "Are they out yet?" Delilah asked Esther as she opened the doorwall. John was just behind her with two glasses of wine in hand. Delilah offered the glass in her hand to Esther. "No, thanks," she said while shaking her head. "For real? What's up with you?" Delilah asked. The truth? Esther hadn't wanted to have sex with Logan, but the oral was just so bad, and she wanted to get the whole night over so she could go home, but, "I just don't feel that drinking would be useful when I'm down like this." "Oh, honey," Delilah hugged Esther. "Is it work? You can tell me–us." "Or you don't have to," John offered. He pointed out to the sky around them. "We can just look at the bats." The nearly full moon was reaching a high point in the sky. While she was excited to be able to pick out so many bats in the moonlight, she felt she had a spotlight on her place on the balcony. She wanted to stay a secret to the world right now. Esther sniffed. "Let's look at bats." The bats quickly soared further up into the moonlight. Esther made a terrible decision letting Logan further into her life. He was a walking red flag. But she was looking at his potential. Something she would never do for a guy again. Esther was simply not pregnant. She did not have an STD/E/I/O/U/and sometimes Y. This was just her body stressing out and showing the exact symptoms of feeling burning sensations when she went to pee and seeing an abnormal discharge in her undies while she winced through the experience. She was feeling pain in her pelvis and it wasn't enjoyable having a general feeling of malaise. She was just stressed. But what the fuck was Logan thinking, anyway? She understood how he wanted to live the Ethically Non-Monogamous life. But he hadn't included any of this in their prior conversations! And the condom breaking? Who waits until the day after to say "uh, so I forgot to tell you last night but I think the condom might have broken." Like, what the fuck? Either she was disassociating or the bats were flying faster. Is that what bats did in their free time? Do time trials with one another? If she was pregnant, she would just...do what was needed to not be pregnant. She wouldn't tell Logan. She would just not be pregnant and that would be okay. She tried to remember which Patron Saint to pray to about this. She could will and pray her way out of this. "So um, in between your bat sightings," Delilah began. "John and I actually wanted to tell you something." Esther's eyebrows rose and her eyes fell upon her sister and her husband of two years hand in hand, looking full of love, life, and a little contempt for Esther's surprise visit. "Yeah?" "We weren't going to bother you, with you being all busy and successful in Detroit, but, since you're here, you'll notice that the house looks a little different, and we've been acting differently..." Blood drained from Esther's cheeks. "This is a weird way to break the news that you're getting divorced." "Esther!" Delilah said. "What gray cloud are you under? We're not getting a divorce, we're trying for a baby!" Esther's blood ran to her stomach lining. She was going to heave. She could do it over the balcony. "Esther?" Delilah asked. "Esther, are you okay?" It would be kind of cute, wouldn't it, to have babies at the same time as her sister? Who cared that Delilah was in a healthy and stable marriage and Esther, should she follow through with a pregnancy, would have Logan and his extended polycule to help with the baby? Esther was shocked out of her reverie when hearing a bat squeal. Had they gotten hurt? Her veins shivered. "Did you see what happened to the bats?" "Near miss," John said. He was seated like one would in a movie theater and focused on the Bat Blockbuster before him. John was so healthy and so healthy for Delilah. That was the perfect situation to bring a baby into. The last time Esther had seen Logan, he was making jokes that bordered on misogynistic. Was that going to be her future? Was Logan the only available option left? A guy too afraid to be exclusive with one girl that she would need to share him? Maybe this baby was a godsend. Maybe she was to be delivered from her shortcomings in life by delivering a new life. Fuck. But more importantly, she needed to be a supportive sister. Esther stood up straight and gathered her sister and brother-in-law into a hug. "I am so excited for you two. Your kid is going to have the greatest aunt." Delilah scoffed but Esther knew she thought it was funny. "We're going to go inside. We'll let you enjoy your bats, but come inside before dawn, okay?" Esther sleepily nodded. She had brought out extra blankets just so she could spend the night with the bats. Delilah didn't have to know. She just had to go inside with her husband and look forward to a great life. Esther had to make some big decisions. However, her emotional support bats seemed to have disappeared. No chitters were heard. Maybe there was a swarm of insects to dine on elsewhere. Oh–wait, one had pierced itself through the night into her reality once more. Esther tucked herself into the patio furniture with heavy blankets. God, what a skill. To be able to be here, there, and yonder and have people question if they had even seen you at all… Esther woke up on the patio furniture. She wondered when her anxiety had tired her out enough to sleep. Her phone told her it was 8am. It also told her that she had cell service again. Esther rushed through the apps to get to her voicemail. The message–a very short message–was to call the office. That meant bad news. But it didn't have to be. This was just going to be news. She didn't have to decide what kind it was. She could figure it out. She could handle it But that didn't mean she wasn't all nerves while the phone rang. She tried to be polite and patient while giving information over the phone but the nurse also had to understand how pressured she felt. Then, finally, the results: "You’re not pregnant. Your tests came back negative for gonorrhea and chlamydia and that, but did come back positive for a yeast infection. We're going to send over a prescription." A wicked, relieved chuckle gripped onto Esther's lungs before it grew into a jolly cackle that bounced out of her throat. Her head flew back to look up at no particular deity. "Are–" the receptionist paused. "Is everything okay?" "No," Esther admits and politely chuckles the rest of her relief out of her body. "Yes. It's just that I've gotten myself worked up over a yeast infection ." "Oh my mom tells me all the time don't trouble trouble until trouble troubles you," the nurse said. "My mom says that, too." Esther laughed more and scraped the unwanted energy off of the balcony. "I'm wondering if I can have you send it to a different pharmacy. I'm out of town for a little while. But I don't know the address. Could I email it to the office?" "Absolutely just send the name and crossroads if not the address." "Thank you so much. I appreciate your help." Esther looked down at the glass of wine Delilah had left there last night. She lifted up with grace and downed it with the same elegance. Then it hit her. Plan B was $40. Urgent care was $75. The labs were $25. The prescriptions are going to be a minimum of $12. $152–a very expensive yeast infection. Esther only had enough care to offer a simple scoff. She ought to fill another glass to celebrate. Before coming up with a plan to do so, Esther’s phone chimed with a text: So I know you want to see me again after a great night like last week 🍆😈🍑 A leftover scoff escaped her lips. From now on, she was going to forget the pressures of dating and go off on her own bat. Back to Anthologies