August 8, 1850 “Can you get Cecelia? Or Kate?” My younger brother’s voice wobbled through the damp darkness. I sat up, facing the sick bay on the other side of the hold where two lanterns cast wavering flickers of light across the floor. “They’re taking care of Papa,”...
“For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” “Sir,” they said, “always give us this bread.” John 6.33-34 Sonia. Sonia. My beautiful Sonia. How I loved Sonia. How I miss her. Will you let me tell you about Sonia? Close...
Join our free mailing list and we'll let you know when we publish new stories, essays, and poetry.