By Brian Volck
Is it possible to recognize my neighbor’s faults unless I’m similarly wounded? The damnable fruit, after all, comes from a tree of knowledge of good and evil. I can spot a hypocrite because I have been one. To sense the shape of fear means I am afraid. Prejudice is a sickness I know from the inside—all too well. Continue Reading …
By Kelly Foster
Out of grace and sheer dumb luck, I’ve been fortunate enough to visit most of the “must see” sites in these United States. I’ve seen the Grand Canyon, Statue of Liberty, Niagara Falls, and the Golden Gate Bridge. I’ve watched the sun turn pink and set over the Olympic Mountains from an island in Puget Sound. Continue Reading …
By Dyana Herron
Most of the time, I don’t feel like a brave person. This has been true since I was a child, a child plagued by strange and vivid fears. I remember lying in bed at night listening to the drone of airplanes passing by overhead—I would imagine a change in the tenor of the engine, and felt certain the plane must be diving downwards. Continue Reading…
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