It was overcast the morning of July 24, 2016 as I loaded up my black Honda CR-V with its air conditioning being held together with a can of Arctic Freeze automotive refrigerant.

“Scooch on down.”

"I would give anything to hear my kids’ voices, footsteps, even happily welcoming the slamming of a dresser drawer."

“As a literature-lover, I’m drawn to symbolism in stories, and there’s a lot in ours. For example, the number 12…” A slight breeze folded the page in my hand, and I glanced up at him before continuing. It was the most I’d seen him all day. I wanted to memorize him, the way his hair curled at his neck like the wisteria swaying in the pergola above us. Though not much of our wedding was traditional – the fact that we were standing in a graveyard garden – we’d decided to keep so

"Before driving to work that day, I was a god..."