The Exact Price of a Miracle And How One Little Girl’s Dollar Bill Saved My Son
The morning air in our little desert rental outside Bakersfield always smelled like dry dust and scorched sagebrush...
Author: Vanessa L. Collins
Why A Worn Wool Coat And A Seventeen Year Ledger Cost A Bank Manager His Arrogant Pride
The kettle on the back burner was whistling a thin, reedy note that fit the gray Tuesday morning....
The Weight of a Balance And How One Modest Withdrawal Broke My Corporate Pride
The fluorescent lights of the Metro Union branch always hummed at a very particular, irritating frequency whenever the...
The Threshold of Remaining Days And How A Quiet Kitchen Prayer Restored My Peace
The blue digital numbers on the microwave downstairs glared 6:42 when my bare feet touched the cold linoleum,...
Why A Midnight Arrival And A Strict Breakfast Menu Cost My Spineless Husband His Family Peace
How long does a person keep quiet just to keep the peace before they realize the peace was...
The Price of Blood Money And Why Eight Years Of Wire Transfers Cost My Family Everything
The cedar chips around the mailbox were damp with morning dew when the old Buick rolled down our...
Why A Dusty Cardboard Box Beneath A Twin Bed Cost Me My Blind Optimism
The smell of dried cedar shavings and stale mothballs still hung in the air of my late mother’s...
Why A Worn Leather Box And A Ten Year Silence Cost Me My Cold Practical Pride
The blue tin of butter cookies sat on the sideboard with a rusted latch that never quite shut...
Why A Heavy Overcoat Pocket And A 4:15 Bus Ride Cost Me My Cold Bakersfield Certainty
The linoleum on the number 14 bus always smelled like wet wool and floor cleaner, a mix that...
Why A Fifteenth Year Cemetery Absence And A Secret Safety Deposit Box Cost Me My Cold Practical Pride
The snow out on Tenth Street was the kind of gray, packed-down slush that never quite melts, staying...