Sharpeville Massacre Remember the dead— remember their names and faces. Remember their wives and children, who sacrificed their lives for freedom in the name of..
It is an unholy thing to look a ghost in the face. Today, my grandfather breaks into my dream again, I know it is him..
(Notes from a memorial written on December 25, 2017) It’s our third consecutive Christmas Eve vigil. Yea, Dad feels there is something more “seasony”..
in the manner of oddities, grief collects in strange places, like fingertips— picking wildflowers from the undergrowth to adorn the ephemeral graves of road kill...
Sweat annoyed our bodies but we loved the sun too much to play with the shade Sun Songs This is how we spent our days...
An old picture your grandfather hangs next to the dream catcher in the living room, an heirloom that need not be divided, it is a..
the name of the man is the first thing to go, followed dutifully by his face, his hands and how he felt on your bed...
I am a small-time Badagrian, and that fact tends to shape my worldview and outlook in a number of ways. But before I relate one..
Jean-Baptiste was running. He had been running for a long time for different reasons. He would run to the market to buy tomatoes. He would..
‘I thought I could stop time by taking apart the clock……… Nothing can keep. Nothing is kept. Only kept track of’ —Paul Tran (Galileo) Time..
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