There are days he doesn’t close his front door, mostly Saturday mornings. I find the door ajar. At 10a.m light floods the living room, light from the gigantic full-length windows across the room. There are no curtains. He has …
Pulmonary Hypertension is a little bastard that sneaked into my mom’s heart and ravaged her. It wasted away her flesh, tore apart her heart, broke her lungs and turned her into a shell. But even though the little bastard …
Even though we trash Facebook, even though we call it the whorehouse of vanity, we refuse to leave it. We stay in there because inherently we are nosy; inherently we want to a part of other people’s lives. We …
