We queue up with all the semis, car carriers full of souped-up SUVs, reefers of Mexican spinach and sweet peas, empty logging trucks, and full livestock trailers. And us, with our secret cargo.
Read More Where We Have to Go – by Lindsey Harrington
Turning from the window to look at Mom and Dad, I watched as she zipped the last bag and he pulled the blankets up over the pillows in his sloppy man-version of making the bed. Mom was vibrating with anger. I had no idea why she was so upset, I was just thankful that her anger wasn’t aimed at me.
Read More God Loves The Sinner, But Not One Like Me – by Suann Amero
There was no trailhead. Rather, I should say that if there was a trailhead, we couldn’t find it. I grabbed the metallic tube that my parents called a ‘torch’ to join Bill in the search. I flicked it on only to realize that, compared to Bill’s floodlight, my flashlight had the candlepower of, well, a candle.
Read More Little Cabin in the Woods – by Andrew Shaughnessy
She has found a great bargain, and the lady who sold the property is leaving a kitchen table, dishes, some cots, a dock and a boat.
“We’ll drive up north to see it next weekend,” she adds.
Read More Early Mentors – by Victoria MacDonald