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Anya Monroe
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Born
in Vicenza, Italy
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Member Since
November 2012
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“My latex-covered fingers tighten as the warmth abandons them. Mom swears she stored a bag of rice in the underground bunker, but I can’t find anything resembling food. A shiver runs down my spine while I move empty crates around. Some light would really help.”
― Flicker
― Flicker
“Baked Beans! I haven’t had these in years. You found these down there?” Tears spring to her eyes; Mom gets nostalgic when it comes to canned goods. Most of the food we eat is rice, beans, and protein shakes made with powdered milk. Beans in a sugary coating is a luxury we never get. Not anymore at least.”
― Flicker
― Flicker
“Baked Beans, Best Before 8/2020.” Suddenly the light in my hand is gone, and the room returns to black. I smile. Beans twelve years past their prime are better than nothing.”
― Flicker
― Flicker
“He kissed her. A kiss about apple pie a la mode with the vanilla creaminess melting in the pie heat. A kiss about chocolate, when you haven't eaten chocolate in a year. A kiss about palm trees speeding by, trailing pink clouds when you drive down the Strip sizzling with champagne. A kiss about spotlights fanning the sky and the swollen sea spilling like tears all over your legs.”
― Weetzie Bat
― Weetzie Bat
“Suppose we suddenly wake up and see that what we thought to be this and that, ain't this and that at all?”
― The Dharma Bums
― The Dharma Bums















































