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 Friar James Augustine It has become one of our most trusted routines—porch therapy. Either sipping on hot coffee waiting for the sun the rise, or having a few ‘cold ones’ in the evening as Mother Nature falls into a slumber, we enjoy it together. The hectic rat race of…