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A pair of Nunn Bush dress shoes, a newspaper route, a game of Crazy Eights
By Our ReadersOctober 2012Our father was blind for five days. He pawed the walls as he felt his way around the house. The television stayed turned up loud, as if the chemicals that had burned his eyes had also scorched his hearing.
By Doug CrandellOctober 2012A reunion at a cafe, a little nap, a boxing match sans trunks
By Our ReadersSeptember 2012The rooms were filled with the smells of food. The only sounds were those of the house slowly settling around us, and the birds outside in the walnut trees, and an occasional car going by on the blacktop road.
By Carolyn MillerAugust 2012As Ochs delivered the song’s most incendiary lyric — “Serve your country in her suicide / Find the flag so you can wave goodbye / But just before the end even treason might be worth a try” — McCarthy threw his arms in the air, and the crowd erupted.
By Lad TobinAugust 2012We carry in our bodies a whole host of hurts, of lonely nights, of tiny slights and insults, of guilt for the slights and insults we’ve inflicted on others. If you’re single, you carry the added weight, the secret shame, of knowing that you are first in no one’s heart. You walk the earth with billions of other people, and you are first in no one’s heart.
By Heather KingAugust 2012History laughs as the wind lifts her skirts. It’s too late for modesty now.
By Sy SafranskyJuly 2012The Tooth Fairy, a vibrator, a fiftieth wedding anniversary
By Our ReadersJune 2012We pull into the driveway of the house where I grew up, or where I gave it my best shot. It’s cold outside, but it’s the kind of cold you do not recognize until you are back inside. So much of life is understood by comparison.
By Linda McCullough MooreMay 2012Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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