by Sarah Toney (This story contains suicide.) The air was thin and icy. Breathing it in felt like swallowing shattered glass. The city was beautiful from this height and the boy wanted to reach out and feel the warmth of the setting sun. The heaviness in his chest felt a…
by Mollie McNeil My mother died of cancer in 1973 when I was eleven years old, leaving five kids with a man who barely knew us. It’s not that our father didn’t love us. It was the tail end of the era of breadwinner and homemaker and knowing us well…
