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…
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Is a Funeral Home Really a Home?
by Michael C. Keith You can’t stop being afraid just by pretending everything that scares you isn’t there. – Michael Marshall During the summer of my 11th year,…