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 Diane Walters I’m a slob! Right now the dishes are piled up in every square inch of my ten-foot kitchen. They are on the stove, in the stove, on the counter, in both sinks and in the dish drain rack; they are stacked two and a half-feet high on…
