First-person narratives based on real human experiences. The moments that change us. The relationships that define us. The lessons we carry forward.
Blake Innes stood at the front of our sanctuary on a Wednesday night in March, with thirty-two years of my life seated in the choir... Read more
For thirty years my sister Verna and I lived eleven miles apart and never crossed them. You can do that, in a country town. People... Read more
Wendell Pyle stood up in the middle of the fellowship hall, pointed one finger down the length of the table at me, and said, “The... Read more
The booth in the front corner of my diner faced east, and that was the only reason I ever rented this building. Maribeth Aldous told... Read more
The truck came up County Road A a little after seven, pulling a flatbed with a rigging crane folded down flat like a sleeping animal,... Read more
For twenty years I told myself I had left the church because I had outgrown it. That was a lie I got comfortable inside of,... Read more
The first shot of the war was fired over a chain-link fence on Maple Street in August of the year my husband died, when my... Read more
For most of my life I was ashamed of my father’s barn. I need to say that plainly, right at the start, because everything else... Read more
I have lived in the same building on Larkspur Street for nineteen years, and for eighteen of them I would have told you I knew... Read more
It was 6:52 on a Tuesday morning in the second week of March when I stood in my own kitchen in my long johns and... Read more