Some mornings as a parent you wake up and notice that your children are gone. Physically they’re still present in the house, but they aren’t the children you had last

Sometimes you see evil and you try to convince yourself it’s something else. You do your best not to ascribe motives to the offender, you run through all sorts of

“Hatred is winning.” Many times a day I find myself thinking this—maybe just as some internal primal scream therapy, a pressure release to fend off a coming explosion, a way

Some things live solely at the expense of others. They feed off those they attach themselves to; robbing their hosts of their lifeblood, sapping them of their vitality, gradually depleting