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Third entry

Okay. Let me tell you about this city. I keep mentioning it like you know what I’m talking about. You don’t. I didn’t either. Before last February, Sofia was a word I might’ve confused with a name. A girl in a telenovela. A brand of overpriced

Second entry

Early January has a tone. Not loud. Persistent. Like someone gently clearing their throat and waiting for you to announce who you plan to become. I keep thinking about New Year’s 2005. Boston. Cold, but honest about it. I was young enough to feel solid without checking in with

First entry

23:52. According to the laptop, which feels annoyingly confident about it. End of the year. Almost a year here. Close enough to notice. Not close enough to celebrate. I’m on a sofa that isn’t mine, in an apartment that smells like someone else’s fabric softener, telling