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Old Van Metaphor

Old Van Metaphor

Old white van parked on the roadside, mud speckled in snow. Marble streaks and tire tracks from window frame could be a photograph. Consider miles traveled through rain and ice, her engine puttering sparks of life as shiny sedans and semi road hogs blast their horns....
Joy Is In The Journey

Joy Is In The Journey

I had an article due for our newsletter on Friday and I didn’t make my deadline. We went with something else. I thought I had a good subject, the Journey of Joy—huh. After many rewrites, I began to feel like I had no idea what joy is. The more I thought about it and...
In Memory of all that is Dee Light Full

In Memory of all that is Dee Light Full

Just as the whiff of lavender wafted through the air of my bedroom a year ago this week—and I was certain it was her—my mother’s essence had enveloped me as I sat reading the Creation story. In seven days, what was unseen became seen. At the end of Mom’s last...
In the Center of Silence

In the Center of Silence

When the thunder scared him as a child, he asked his mother, Is God angry, Mama? No son, she told him. The angels are bowling. He heard the sky’s rumbling as his eyes roamed the scene before him—street lamps looking like floating balls of light. Fluffs of snow fell on...
Reemerged

Reemerged

  I heard the song of the cicadas outside my window and remembered the day we left Paradou. Jean Pierre held one between his fingers and told us how they live underground for seven years before emerging to life in that area of France. That’s how long it took me...

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