Published Essays by Wendy Atwell 

“When I went through adolescence, I grew breasts—a normal process for a female—except that mine kept growing. They expanded like balloons, blocking my way when I reached for something...”  Continue Reading Here

“Last week at our place in the country, I heard the telltale sound of yard work – that deafening, obnoxious roar – and looked out the kitchen window to see my husband Billy speed by, wielding two black control handles and leaving a long swath of clean cut grass in his wake. He was on the riding lawnmower...” Continue Reading Here