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I returned from the City about three o’clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life. I had been…
A man stood upon a railroad bridge in northern Alabama, looking down into the swift water twenty feet below. The…
I remember the days When I was young and full of life, Looking forward to early mornings. I used to…
Mr. Max Madison was sixty-one years old when he had that vicious thought. He wanted to open an account on…
Cold droplets of water fall from my face as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The purple of…
Gifted. Zara sees more than she can speak. Feels what others can’t. She is slow when speed is needed. Or…
Proud thou not and think a dearest friend Plot not the graph of arrogance Nor study the Atlas of dishonesty …
This epistolary is inspired by a story I saw on YouTube of a shooting victim who forgave his shooter. Among…