"But what’s the half-life of any joy? At the end of our honeymoon, he dropped me off down the street from my house, brushed his mouth against my forehead and became a memory. My parents and sisters had already figured I was dead or kidnapped and I remember feeling bothered by how quickly their relief turned to anger. The hospital took me back, with conditions, after I invented a dying relative. And the soldier dissolved into a cold bath of mistakes I’d probably make again..."Read More
"It's progressive, it's good for business, and it's happening in New Plymouth, Idaho..."Read More
"Think of taking a dip in a pool filled with bottled water, sans chlorine or guilt..."Read More
"Then things got weird. Our third runner wore a mumu during her first leg, appearing, from a distance, like a messiah sans following, as she ran with the Sawtooths by her side..."Read More