The Mosquito
It’s 5:30 am. I’m sitting at the dining room table. Typing away. Trying to pull words out of my head....
It’s 5:30 am. I’m sitting at the dining room table. Typing away. Trying to pull words out of my head....
I’m 15 years old. I’ve just arrived home after school and I’m standing by the side of the couch staring...
My job does not ask a lot of me. Physically, that is. I stand, point, pace, write on a board...
Dillon’s in the street raking up pulled weeds. I step out to check in on him. And, he begins. “Dad,...
It’s the end of the day. A long day. I’m tired. Spent. Drenched in sweat. Done. Ready to go. Shades...
