My Purple
I often take pride in the testimony that I never wore dresses as a kid. But that’s a lie. At age 5 I wore one dress – a single dress and that dress only.
I often take pride in the testimony that I never wore dresses as a kid. But that’s a lie. At age 5 I wore one dress – a single dress and that dress only.
I’m trying to get into our new safe deposit box, but I haven’t brought the key with me. “Can’t you open it with yours?” I ask. She gives me a quizzical look.
As a child, any time I got to spend with Dad amounted to the thumb space at the toe of a tight shoe. Dad was a general handyman in the surrounding neighborhoods…
I saw my father in the mirror. The eyes within the glass— The same shade as an Oak cascaded in moss— Are an uncanny reflection of his own.
“Can we pray for my brother?” She asked as I petitioned the class for prayer intentions. “We just found out he is going to be incarcerated…”
Congratulations to the winners of the 2020 Dreamers Stories of Migration, Sense of Place and Home Contest. This contest honours the term “Dreamers”…
A heavy weight presses down on my chest. It feels like a chasm is forming under the breastplates covering my heart. I take a moment…
Mid-way through a week of walking the vales and fells of the Lakes | My new friend Judy asks: | What do your parents do?
The Sunday I first went to the quarry was after I made Tito choose. He’d been back in the States a few weeks. This is what his mother…