What Are You Throwing At Me?
The Prodigal In You
His eyes darted first to his right, then to his left, like he was looking for an exit that didn’t exist. I could feel his agitation, reminding me of when as a boy, I had stopped at Swain’s pet shop on the way home from school, and gazing at the pitiful, caged raccoon scratching to …
Escaping Mid-Summer Doldrums
Go Ahead
Tears suddenly welled up in her eyes as she paused in mid-sentence, changing the subject of our conversation completely. “I would talk to my brother, two to three times a week,” she abruptly said, slowing her speech, glancing away with a far-away look in her eyes. “I miss him so much. I’ll hear a voice …