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 Paula Nutt The place I’m going reminds me of a newspaper, especially the headlines. Letters and numbers, facts and figures, neatly lined up in rows and columns of black and white. Some catch your attention while others are passed over. But first I must get there. Farm-to-Market Road 917…