Confabulation
That’s not how it happened, and I have the picture to prove it. It’s just that the picture is in my mind.
That’s not how it happened, and I have the picture to prove it. It’s just that the picture is in my mind.
It is better that ten guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer. – Blackstone’s Ratio Dark night in a city slum. Three black street gang members, two men and a woman, pull into the parking lot of a housing complex. They exchange words with three members of another gang, all men. The words lead
Channen Smith: A Real Life Crime Story Read More »
During my 7th summer, my grandmother Augusta died. This brought the reality of death to me for the first time. That was also the summer rats got in under our back porch, an infestation that drove Mom about crazy with fear and loathing. All that somehow came together to inspire me to imagine my own
The Mere Miracle of Existence Read More »
Billy grew up watching his home deteriorate. Behind a veneer of nonchalant plastic prosperity, creeping damp and dry rot spread relentlessly. Every possible creature comfort populated the interior: colour TVs, soft furnishings, wardrobes crammed with flashy clothes. Yet behind it all, the walls crumbled and flowered with fungus. The wallpaper reeled and peeled, its jagged
The Crumbling Structure Read More »
There’s a sound that the early autumn wind makes through the cottonwoods across the way (all dash and whisper and sway) that is the sound of a faraway whistle caught on a thread of unraveling distance from an old coal train heading west; it is the sound of the last of the Canada geese hefting
Cottonwoods of October Read More »
When Americans haven’t been happy with a new law or decision, they’ve chosen various methods of protest to bring about changes to them. However, the old ways of bring forth the winds of change are no longer working. We have marches on Washington larger than anything M.L.K., Jr. ever accomplished, and for equally common sense
Winning through Non-Participationism Read More »