The Cabin He Left a Condition On
For nineteen days my brother Thaddeus would not say my name. Not once. He would say “she” and he would say “your sister” and he… Read more
The Hymn That Brought My Brother Back
I want to tell you about the morning I buried my mother in Wickett, Nebraska, a town so small the welcome sign and the goodbye… Read more
The Parking Spot That Took Eleven Years
The spot is the third one from the door at Pilgrim Rest Community Church, on the shady side, under the one good maple in the… Read more
The Knitting Circle Set Me Up
For eleven years I was the woman who found everybody else somebody. I paired off half of Dunmore County from a card table at the… Read more
The Shy Grandpa Who Said Her Name
My grandfather, Alvin Pruett, has not spoken into a microphone on purpose one single time in the seventy-nine years he has been alive. I want… Read more
The Seat at the Head Table
For forty-one years I cut hair in the front room of my house on Sorrel Street, in a town in central Nebraska so small the… Read more