by James B. Nicola I heard my mother’s voice today. Thanksgiving weekend. Ten years this January. My nephew played a very loving voice mail message from her he has kept on his cell phone ten years. My brother said he has kept three such messages. My nephew said he had another one and wept awhile. It made…
by Aaron Jensen There should have been pain. Gene knew that; he also knew that the lack of that pain meant that he was probably going to die. The only thing left to ponder was how long it would take this mangled and motionless husk—which had been a fit and…
