cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
I was crawling into bed late one night when my phone lit up. I knew better than to stick my face in front of the blue light as I was preparing to fall asleep but, as usual, my curiosity got the best of me. To my surprise, it was a message from. . .my car.…
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I pound my fist against the chain link fence– Anger boiling up into a scream of rage. Again and again and again, I’m at this same dead end. It’s all familiar territory. We circle round and round, And it always leads here. I’m at this same dead end.
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