Why A Midnight Wrong Number And A Seven Year Grief Turned Into My Only Saving Grace
The green digits on the microwave downstairs always glowed at 12:04 whenever I woke up parched, but on...
Author: Vanessa L. Collins
Why A Grandmother’s Twenty Five Thousand Dollar Nest Egg And A Fiancé’s Demanding Text Cost Me My Quiet Illusion About Ethan
The smell of cold iron and damp cedar always lingers in the back of my garage workshop whenever...
Why A Scheduled Facebook Message And A Thirty Two Year Silence Cost Me My Only Son
Today is Love Your Sons Day. May my son always know he is smart, kind, handsome, and loved....
Why A Late Night Text Message And A Pair Of Reading Glasses Cost Me My Quiet Illusion About Arlene
Late at night, the phone makes a sound. It is a sharp, two-tone chirp that cuts straight through...
Why A One Dollar Obituary And A Used Aluminum Skiff Cost Me My Quiet Small Town Grief
The fluorescent lights in the preparation room of Miller Mortuary had this awful, humming yellow tint that made...
Why A Stubborn Online Classroom Attendance Rule And A Silent Teenager Cost Me My Cold Professional Pride
The attendance software on our district portal always took a full four minutes to load during the first...
Why A Fake Five Million Dollar Phone Call And A Stained Leather Briefcase Cost Me My Small Town Pride
I was sitting right there in a folding chair that smelled faintly of old floor wax when Leo...
Why A Freshly Polished Oak Desk And A Dead Phone Line Cost Me My Brother’s Last Shred Of Dignity
The smell of fresh latex paint and sawdust still hung heavy in the air when Arthur unlocked the...
Why A Stubborn Online Classroom Attendance Rule And A Silent Teenager Cost Me My Cold Professional Pride
I still have the unsubmitted referral form sitting in a blue digital folder on my desktop, dated three...
Why A Verse In Isaiah And A Twelve Dollar Balance Cost Me My Last Shred Of Pride
The phone lit up on the oilcloth at 4:14 in the afternoon. Isaiah 41:10 sat right there in...
