Moral: Take care, even when ye be in Haeyste, to not do that which woulde Waste Tyme later, for from Haeyste proceedeth only Waeyste.
Clark and Tessie came immediately to the back screen door, already vocalizing their hunger. No Lewis.
The memory of their faces in this moment is one of two life events that can make me cry on cue.
Have you ever noticed how intimate sitcoms are?
I’m writing about the extraordinary.
How many other transitions in life are like this: inevitable, beautiful, a blessing, and a pain so deep its aches reverberate through generations.
Between the Jes I think I know and that other Jes, the inexhaustible Jes, the one who slips briefly into view whenever she offers an unexpected comment, a laugh out of place, a sideways glance.
You wait to feel something, see a vision, hear a heavenly voice. But it’s quiet. The tomb is empty.
Light, after all, functions as both a particle and a wave.
what if status updates become souls.