Our daughter ended up in the hospital last week. Eight hundred miles and another time zone only added to the anxiety. Parenting from a distance is unsettling.
Standing outside the window of my truck, a man is holding a bowl of Halloween candy. A large motorcycle rally is in town, the island flooding with chrome and a constant, deep rumble.
The cold-blooded killings of 11 people at a Pittsburgh synagogue on Saturday ought to give every decent human being a wake-up call. Civilization is under attack inside of our own borders. And possibly most troubling, the attack is coming from within.
My friend is dead. Rear-ended while parked at a red light, the impact crushed his Ford F-150 and pushed him into the intersection. He died a few days later from complications resulting from head injuries. Already, the world feels a bit less exciting, a little less complete.