I often feel like the harbinger of doom-and-gloom. There are so many issues that I see as important. Most of them result in death. Some have happy endings. Fiction has been a respite for me. I don’t indulge in it often. It feels like a desert after a burnt roast. It’s hard to immerse oneself… Continue reading Insanity?
Llamaremos a nuestra protagonista Rosa. Pero Rosa no es ficticia, es una persona real. Rosa estaba descansando en su casa, viendo la televisión, y esperando la oportunidad de llegar a su médico para obtener una referencia para conseguir una cama en un buen hospital. Ella tenía una cama sólo si su médico respondió. Rosa… Continue reading Trauma Institucional: Holocausto de las Américas
A tickle stuck in her throat; it was this side of a choke. Heather trussed the silent woman’s hands together with a tight double-looped knot. She hadn’t meant for Fran to get in the way—it just sort of happened. Fran was her friend, her comrade-in-cards. She’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Fran moaned, and Heather’s tickle slid… Continue reading The Goddess of Cribbage
Food was hard to come by. Buildings had cropped up all around until the sun no longer shone in the windows located on the right side of my house. Then, too, there was the matter of families staying closer to one another. The increase in ethnic diversity brought with it more people from Old Countries: a fact… Continue reading Meat
What is the view of child abuse? I struggle with that question. I've found that child abuse survivors are viewed as damaged goods. I see pity in people’s eyes. I say, don’t see me and my ordeal—understand that there are children out there right this second that are undergoing the same kind of ordeal. … Continue reading My Story of Child Abuse