The Storm Makes the Tale

In a journal I only recently saw for the first time, my Granny, deceased many years now, writes of an older relative who would tell her juvenile self and siblings ghost stories at night. The stories, she says, were so terrifying that at bedtime she and the other young...

Suffering Is Not an Afterthought in Christianity

A long wooden footbridge crosses an alcove of White Rock Lake. Pedaling across it one day, something coming from behind breaks the surface of my peripheral vision, head height, about 10 yards to the right, over the water. About a half-mile back I saw for the first...

240 Successive Slow-Stalking Cats

Four minutes remain before my homemade fat-free pita-pizza is ready to pull from the oven. Normally, four minutes are a fleeting fifteenth of an hour. Now that I’m hungry, though, four minutes are 240 successive slow-stalking cats. I turn my back on the clock,...