Pandemic Pits: A Love Story

How I learned to let it grow

Photo by Maryia Plashchynskaya on Pexels

W e were very young when we first met. I was eleven, maybe twelve. It seemed they had only just entered the world. Back then, I was enamored by their delicate, sprouting innocence — almost translucent in their infancy. They made me feel that I was truly becoming a woman, an entity with broiling passions and urges I didn’t understand. I often found my fingers weaving…