veterinary technician and freelance writer
🌧 penchant for horror, thriller and criminal psychology 🌧
follow me on instagram
I Choose Treats, Always
Hi folks! My name is Millie, and I'm a nine-year-old miniature dachshund who was rescued three years ago. Like my mom, I'm a huge lover of the spooky season—running after squirrels, rolling in dried leaves, getting spoiled with treats, and of course, watching scary movies curled up on the couch. I couldn't wait to celebrate Halloween this year, because I wasn't always physically able to. Life hasn't always been easy-peasy.
Skeletons Can Dance Too
Halloween is my favorite holiday. The only one I like, to be exact. Foods and confections aside, Valentines' Day gets a pass, Easter is more often than not forgettable, and Christmas, as backwards as it is, gives me the heebie-jeebies. For some twisted reason, my anxious self decided very early on in life that I was going to be obsessed with anything and everything horror, from literature to visual arts, cinematography, and of course, music.
Something That Goes Unnoticed
Being a vet tech isn't easy. In fact, it's the complete opposite. Reality is harsh and ugly: the conditions are bad. The salary is borderline insulting (did you know the average vet tech, with the same academic degree, makes approximately half of a nurse's hourly wage?), lunch breaks aren't a thing, finding time to drink water or go to the bathroom is a struggle, clients like to use us as their personal punching bag, and the recognition is near zero.
Crepes for two
This post is part of the Vocal Cooks Collaborative! Baking dessert is unlike anything else. It's about putting life on pause, just for a moment, forget about the stress of the 9-5 job and dedicate time to yourself. Whatever may be going in your day-to-day life, if you feel like it's too much weight to bare, catching up to you, about to rise and spill, or spiraling out of control, stop, and take a breather. Head over to the kitchen, put on your apron, and let go of everything else. Focus on the moment. Measure—slowly, carefully. Mix—softly, seamlessly. Watch it rise in the oven, like a miracle, one you gave life to. Sneak a taste, perhaps before it's fully done, enjoy. When you're baking, you're in control.
Down Porcelain Road
"Got a 10-15 on Porcelain Road. Neighbor says they heard a child's scream coming from inside the Taurus family house." The coffee I was sipping suddenly turned on me, venturing down the wrong pipe and throwing me into a coughing fit. A bit of it dribbled down my chin and stained my cotton shirt—I would've cussed if it wasn't from my temporary inability to speak.
S E P I A
From the fleeting safety of her blankets, Marie took the time to stare at her blemished hands, using the flashlight she kept hidden under her mattress. With her pale fingertip, she traced the scars along her forearms, old and new ones alike, pretending each and every one of them were memories of past adventures. She followed the red lines of her mother's wooden ruler, marked so deep across her wrist, she could almost see the numbers printed onto her skin.
How Vocal Is Actively Making Us Better Writers
Following the backlash of the latest controversy on Vocal, many of us found ourselves disheartened, frustrated, or even on the verge of giving up. Fighting for fairness and accountability is always important, but I believe amidst the outrage, we may have lost our sense of purpose—forgotten everything that Vocal does have going for it, outside of the monetary scene.
When I came home and opened the front door, the smell of old diapers and microwaved zucchini mush instantly made me gag. I pressed a finger to my nostrils, kicking a rubber ducky out of my way with an angry squeak before taking my high heels off and poking my head in the living room arch.