Author: julianburnes

Nobody sang happy birthday to me when I turned eighteen. Instead, I was gifted a bargain-outlet suitcase to pack my belongings. They said that they needed the bed for another boy in need. I guess once you turn eighteen you’re suddenly not considered a boy anymore. If only my shaking hands and panicked heart would get the message.But I would survive, as I had always done, despite my best efforts … best efforts to the contrary. Having a home was overrated anyway. That’s why couches and park benches existed, right? All things considered, summer wasn’t such a bad time to…