She thought about the toasted bread that her mother made for her every morning to drink with black sage tea, but most of all, she thought about a perfect kind of love.
“We are not defined by our traumas, we are not defined by our traumas, we are not defined by our traumas.”
“Even if his first name is Santa, he’s no saint to me.”
“Small and dark and slanted eyed like me.”
“We’re a bunch of slanted-eyed brown girls watching wide-eyed white girls being chased by a killer.”
“No vampires, werewolves, and certainly no witches.”