Magazine

Dear Past Sarah. Yes, you. The one sitting on the kitchen floor at 2:14 AM on a random Tuesday exactly six months ago. You’re wearing that gray fleece robe where the zipper is permanently stuck halfway down. You’re drinking Folgers...

It's 3:14 AM. The yellow glow of the kitchen extractor fan is casting long, dramatic shadows across the worktop, and my left sleeve is completely soaked in tepid, sour-smelling milky water because I didn't roll it up high enough. I'm...

It was 2:14 AM. I was standing in the kitchen illuminated only by the harsh blue light of the microwave clock, aggressively scrubbing a plastic milk cylinder with the exact same green and yellow sponge I had just used to...

I was holding a six-month-old plastic bottle up to the harsh LED light of my kitchen exhaust hood at two in the morning when I realized something was terribly wrong. Next to it on the counter sat a brand new...