Why A Senior Hound Named Buster And A Porch Full Of Dogs Cost Me My Safe Quiet
The humidity in Wichita during the tail end of July has this peculiar way of sitting on your...
Author: Vanessa L. Collins
Why Finding The Same Handwritten Note Inside The Poetry Section Every Tuesday Cost Me My Safe Ignorance
The third-floor reading room at the county library always smelled like wet wool and old floor wax whenever...
Why A Worn Black And White Photograph In My Husband’s Wallet Cost Me Twenty Five Years Of Pride
I reckon most folks would have left that leather billfold sitting right there on the cedar chest where...
Why Forty Years Of Anonymous Birthday Cakes Cost Me Every Ounce Of My Bitter Pride
The cardboard box always smelled like vanilla and cheap tape, arriving on the exact same Tuesday in late...
Why An Old Photograph In My Leather Wallet Cost Me Twenty Five Years Of Pride
The green corduroy sofa in my den had a grease stain right on the left armrest shaped like...
Why Twenty Six Years Of Ironing My Dead Father S Work Shirts Cost Me My Safe Ignorance
The smell of hot metal and scorched starch always fills the utility room around 7:00 AM on Tuesdays,...
Why Fourteen Hundred Miles Of Interstate Asphalt And A Forged Construction Draw Cost Me Everything I Kept Safe
Fourteen hundred miles of interstate asphalt will make a man value his own silence more than gold. My...
Why A Small Town Ledger And A Verse From Psalm 18 Cost Me My Quiet Peace With Arthur
The smell of cold iron and damp wool always stays in the back of my throat whenever I...
Why A Sealed Envelope In A Million Dollar Office Cost Me My Quiet Family Peace
I should have known better than to expect anything from a man who spent twenty-five years pretending I...
Why Thirty Seven Christmas Gifts And A Cold Exclusion Cost My Father His Entire Trust Fund
The smell of wood smoke and burned sugar always lingers in my coat whenever I think about that...