Wiping my hands on a cup towel, I turned from the Alfredo sauce to face Clayton. Looking at his solemnity, I knew I needed to adjust dinnertime. “This money needs to last me all summer,” he said, handing me a fat bank envelope. “I’ve been saving for about a year, and I’d like you to keep it for me.” As …
Here, on the highest slope near Nazareth stands the unfinished edifice. The townspeople below are drawn here by some unknown magnetism. Boys come to play on the slab of rock, dueling with broken planks among the unused stones. The elderly come to ponder, tugged here to reminisce on loss, while the sun sets over the valley. Everyone else simply comes …
Our small town newspaper may have been the last of its kind. A main stay in the community, they not only circulated a weekly, rural chronicle, but their front office also sold Big Chief tablets, mod stationery, and mimeograph paper to the local populace. More than a mere publishing company, the Crosbyton Review was a reflection of our region’s three-thousand-residents …
I think that this must have been my mother’s mantra. When I whined about doing something I didn’t want to do, she most often found a way to slip this into the conversation. “Don’t forget the Golden Rule,” she would remind. So as an adult, I’m often reminded to think through how I want to be treated …
