First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
My name is Sabine Fairweather. I am thirty-four years old, and until one Tuesday morning in late spring, I would have told you that the... Read more
I was sitting in row eleven when I opened the program and stopped being able to feel my own hands. The fourth performance was listed... Read more
I was fourteen time zones from home, in a hotel room in Singapore, when my phone buzzed with a security alert and I watched my... Read more
My name is Ferdinand Devereaux. I am fifty-eight years old, I have run the feed and hardware store on Route 9 outside Sorrel Creek, Kentucky... Read more
The diner in International Falls smelled like burnt coffee and bacon grease, and I remember being grateful for both, because for six days I hadn’t... Read more
The locksmith’s van was the first thing I saw when I opened my curtains that Saturday, and the moving truck was the second, and my... Read more
Ten minutes into my own divorce hearing, my husband stood up in a half-empty courtroom in Cedar Hollow, Missouri, and laughed at me. Not a... Read more
The message came through while I was still in my socks, drinking coffee at my own kitchen table, watching the fog lift off Cutter Lake... Read more
The rain in Coldbrook doesn’t fall so much as it arrives, all at once, like it has somewhere else to be and Missouri is only... Read more
I want to tell you about the dock first, because that is the part everybody who was there still talks about, but to make it... Read more
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