Sections | Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories | The Sun Magazine #3
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Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Mild Case

When did the distance from the bed to here become twenty-six miles? That pair of pants I stepped over, you see that? Goddamn Everest that was.

By Josh Swiller March 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

To Make It Through

Some of us have faced devastating losses of jobs or homes or family members, and some of us have more time to take up hobbies and house projects. Some of us pop our trunks open, and some of us fill them.

By Vivé Griffith March 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Precarious

“Imagine if we’d known,” I said. “If you’d had a diagnosis, you could have been given lithium or something to help you.” Joan lifted her hands to her face and sobbed.

By S.B. Rowe February 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Nesting

They take turns at the feeders, but if one lingers too long, the others — usually males — will jabber insults until the offender leaves. I have a secret nickname for the house sparrows: Little A-holes.

By Ira Sukrungruang February 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

The Union Waltz

After work we would be headed to Smitty’s Bar, where the twangy music would kick up, and I’d try to find the courage to dance in public.

By Doug Crandell February 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

I Still Don’t Feel Free

I’m sick of being defined by the prison experience and long to be a normal human being with a past that doesn’t need to be discussed.

By Saint James Wood February 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Rain Shadows

When you have been through something terrible, and you know deep down the outcome could have been otherwise, you develop a strange gratitude for everyday life. The smallest acts of generosity can make you cry.

By Steve Edwards January 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

The Point

Home is 1.1 miles away, about a five-minute bike ride. I can feel the distance in my gut, like a rubber band with one end attached to my apartment and the other to my lower intestine.

By Hank Stephenson January 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

Something I Might Say

I read all the literature hospice brought: Give the gift of comfort and calm. Give them support, permission. Give them more than they gave you.

By Stephanie Austin January 2021
Essays, Memoirs, and True Stories

The Loss

Some treat shiva purely as a party. Some have a mournful air. Some look deeply into your eyes, and you can see that they have suffered, too. This is the higher purpose of suffering: to inspire deep-eyed compassion. It’s one of those truisms that is actually true.

By Sparrow December 2020