First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
“Don’t bring your dry old pies this year, Lorene. I ordered real desserts from a real bakery.” My daughter in law Meredith said that to... Read more
My son-in-law sold my granddaughter’s piano to pay off a gambling debt. I was gone eight days, visiting my sister in Ponca City for her... Read more
The appraisal came back at $438,700, and that number is the only reason I ever found out I had disappeared. I was not looking for... Read more
My grandson Gabe was fifteen years old when he stood up at his mother’s dinner table with a fork still in his hand and broke... Read more
I found the first one in the coffee tin. It was a Tuesday in October, the kind of gray morning where the light comes in... Read more
By Nadia Cross — The boots were at the very back of the closet, behind the winter coats and a box of Mira’s old scarves... Read more
At 8:16 that evening, thirty eight weeks pregnant, with my ankles pressing against the elastic of shoes I’d bought for a body I didn’t have... Read more
I was scraping cold potato salad off a paper plate into the trash can behind the fairgrounds pavilion, three weeks out from twelve straight nights... Read more
At 2:47 in the afternoon on the Saturday of the Fourth of July weekend, with my four-year-old running a fever of a hundred point two... Read more
The first bicycle showed up fixed on a Tuesday in 1994, and I want to tell you about that Tuesday because it is where this... Read more