Standing on the rim of summer

We draw to the close of another school year, and I can’t decide if it feels like nine months have passed, or nine days. The way time suspends like a hammock, the way it marches forward like ants in a line. Sometimes I see the calendar and my own soul as a...

Five Minute Friday: When

When you wake in the morning with first thoughts of fear for tender lives in your care, or with the day’s tasks racing past your face on a hopped-up assembly line, or with pain over that relationship or horrible misunderstanding, and all you can do is sort of...

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