Don’t Fly the Plane Yourself

Don’t Fly the Plane Yourself

A few years ago, I flew out to Nashville for a family member’s funeral. I was in my suit, standing at the gate with my two young sons, waiting to board. The flight was running late, and boarding hadn’t started yet, so the whole gate area was packed and...
Who’s The Bad Guy

Who’s The Bad Guy

Tears roll silently down her chin, puddling around her as she sits crunched in a ball towards the back of the closet. The clothes no longer swing from her jostling into the corner at the first sign of chaos, but the fabric helps muffle the rage fill screams coming...