The Cost

The Cost

Prosperity woke early, before the Sun had opened his eyes and before the stars and Moon took their rest. He did this often. Urgency pressed beneath his ribs like a second heart, beating not for life but for motion, reminding him that stillness was waste and delay a...
Prejudice

Prejudice

I walked the West Fork trail as autumn stood in its fullness. The forest was layered with color—gold pressed against yellow, red resting beside brown—each holding its place in quiet contrast to the winter that waited beyond them. Soon the leaves would loosen their...
Walls Don’t Work

Walls Don’t Work

Walls are often raised with confidence. Stone stacked upon stone, steel drawn skyward—each layer offered as assurance. They promise order. Protection. Control. The language surrounding them is always firm, always certain. A boundary, we are told, is strength made...