Sometimes a little walk is all you need to tug your world back into focus.
It seems to her that humans have only one spring, one summer, one fall, and if they’re lucky — or not, depending on your perspective — one winter.
One hundred and twenty hours after my mother took her last breath, we gathered around a deep hole and covered her casket in roses.
The water shimmers baby blue beneath a blushing pink sky and it seems Bob and I are the only people on earth.
“How long do you want to live?” Bob asks over a steaming bowl of fried cabbage