Dressed in black shorts and red t-shirt underneath his finest black, pinstriped blazer and sporting a braided black fedora on his head to shade him, Ben Sower walked along the road. Miles behind him, Ben found the strength to place one foot forward again, and then again, searching for what he had not found. Sweat […]
In Lincolnshire County, England, tucked neatly against the western side of The Wash in the North Sea in the village of Wrangle, there lived a simple man named Adger Clarke. This was no surprise, as Wrangle was at the time populated by no more than 1300 persons, and thus, all were simple. The parish church
Jack dies. He finds himself walking down a dirt lane. In the distance, he sees a gate. As he nears, he sees a man tending a garden. He’s not sure what has happened. He remembers grasping for breath and clutching his chest. And now, he is walking down this quiet country lane. Curious, he walks toward the gate. Jack greets the gardener. Hello, sir. “Hello,
The old woman… sensed his somber mood as she awoke to do her morning chores, preparing bread and gathering provisions for her husband’s journey. This day arrived without a hint of the years and trials each had endured, though each bore the facial, creviced, leathered flesh revealing those survivals. Their long union loved well in silent,
