Mourning My Father and (In Some Ways) A Gentler Time

I woke up Saturday morning in a funk. In itself, this is nothing unusual. But, over the next few hours, the funk thickened and blackened until, by noon or thereabouts, it had entombed me. It was one of those miasmic, suffocating funks that poisons all of my thoughts while they’re still struggling to get out [Read More...]


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