Clean It Up!

I grew up in a construction family. My father built houses. Most of my summers were spent on the end of a shovel. My brother and I were human backhoes. Many times our father would say, “Give me a ditch three feet deep from here to the house. See you at lunch.” It was...

The Fading Sounds of Sorrow

I was sitting in my writing chair listening to some beautiful instrumental Christmas music. It was a piano solo. As the pianist continued to play a soft melody, in the distance, I heard the wailing song of a siren clearing the way in route to an unknown trauma. The...