Rachel Hartinthe Cafe165 degreesNearly 20 stories in the sky. With one arm I protect my eyes from pelting rain and my cheeks from whipping hair. The other clings tightly…Sep 20, 2017Sep 20, 2017
Rachel Hartin433 miles apARTThe Boy Who Wrote Poetry on His MittThousands of little kids, and nobody’s around — nobody big, I mean — except me. And I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I…Jul 8, 2017Jul 8, 2017
Rachel HartinThe CoffeeliciousA Flower for MawmawSometimes, we don’t give our younger selves enough credit.Feb 20, 2017Feb 20, 2017