Thirty-one years today since that pick-up truck plowed into her little car, leaving her motionless. The spark snuffed out. Leaving her to sit and moan the occasional word. Rubbing constantly at her crusted eye, still swollen shut. Her lifeless hands and legs. No animated gestures to light up a room. They’re nearly all but gone, …
Black, velvet sky melts into night-time darkness. It’s something below freezing. And I think to myself, ‘here we go again’. It’s another ‘up-too-late’ week-night, and I find myself driving snow-dusted roads riddled with pot-holes. This is becoming a habit I wish I could break; that is, the custom of making lesson plans in a creepy …
“Now, we all know what kind of person Mary was. She was quiet and gentle and kind, and the little girl who plays Mary should try to be that kind of person. I know that many of you would like to be Mary in our pageant, but of course we can only have one Mary. …