Category Archives: Colorado
It is my hope that we remember to use the breath we have in our lungs to speak up, to show mercy, and to act with love.
One would think rights bequeathed by the Omnipotent Ruler of the Universe would be impervious to puny, mortal attack.
The laughter flowed freely, as if the devastation of the last few days had dammed it up until it burst from us all at once.
I don’t believe in ghosts. I do believe that wicked work cannot be hidden.
I’ve peed behind dumpsters, on beaches, in alleys, gardens, parking lots, yards—and yet I was here, in this bathroom, I-can-pee-anywhere-ing in a space created for people who can’t.
Herb has long since retired. Where his barber pole once hung there’s now an upscale Vietnamese joint that does light lunches and dinners.
Fire is a dirty thing. Petulant, wild, prone to fits.
It is in the repetitive ritual of opening and closing the house each day—unrolling the broken shade by hand, wrestling with the deadbolt on the warped front door, seeing age—that I find inexplicable revelations.
Saint John once wrote that perfect love casts out fear. I beg to differ.