You never really can go back. You can rekindle friendships that still fit like a good pair of jeans. You can retrace contours of familiar country roads. You can even pull the flyers on a few for-sale homes just for fun. But you never really can go back. I spent seven years in my 20s and
Breaking a sweat and trying frantically to remove a shoe while rummaging through her carry-on bag, the woman flashed angry eyes and barked at her wheelchair-bound husband. She waved Mr. Impatient Business Traveler ahead, wiping sweat from her brow and maybe wiping a tear too. It was only 5:45 a.m. – early to already be
How we respond to life’s ubiquitous “it’s not fair” moments is a true measure of our maturity. This is why I decided against scratching a grown human being’s eyeballs out this week. Context probably matters right now. “Hi, Mom.” Two words, tone, and time of day told me everything I needed to know. The Man
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