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sheena d! (she/they) is an essayist, doodler, and humorist and this is her website

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She points down to the imprints of his butt cheeks and then up to make sure I see the little grease stain his hair leaves on the pillow. He’s not going to stop making messes or watching junk TV or being vain just because he’s dead.

excerpted from Fried Fish, a short story published in Hennepin Review

"When I moved to Vermont, I thought I knew what I was signing up for: too much snow, not enough black people, and a just-right amount of maple syrup."

late night searches
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“Hello, 911? I am the first person at this party.”
― Samantha Irby, Wow, No Thank You

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