by J. Caleb Thomas For as long as I can remember, Mother rang a silver bell every morning at six. It was small enough to fit in her palm but loud enough to wake the dead. Even when she was bedridden and pale with fever, she kept it on the…
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Terminal
by Matthew Hamilton Terminal. It is such an incredibly idiotic word. It has a meaning, born only from whoever decides these things, these silly definitions, yet it does not do it justice. Sure, it’s a nice, neat, euphemistic way to sum up the issue at hand, but the designation doesn’t…