Thoughts about my death don’t hijack me anymore, although I can still capsize into the swamp of fear if I dwell too long on nonexistence.
Burying my religion to sell a novel? That’s bad faith—or no faith at all.
I find the board bearing the bright bloom of my blood and push the splinter into place.
The loss and near-loss of three people in my life in a short span of time were too great to put into words.
Okay, class! Today we will make a cream bun.
