The Iron Bridges

I sometimes say that I grew up in the middle of nowhere, but that’s not quite true. If I really think it over, it’s more accurate to say that my little town perched on the edge of nowhere.

Plastic

Shallow words. They said everything you’d expect. All the customary platitudes flowed freely from their lying lips: We’re sorry for your loss, he was the kindest person I ever met, he was my friend for fifty years, and so forth. Fair enough, in some cases. The comments about his character bothered me the most. They […]